Invasive Species
by closetpsycho
Summary: Ian Hamish Rawlings is Rumpelstiltskin's personal knight in shining armor, he just doesn't know it yet. Rumple/OMC word vomit... sticks to the canon plot mostly. (Published on AO3 as well)
1. Wake Me Up When September Starts

Emma.

He might as well have been shot in the gut, the reaction would have been the same and for a moment everything blurred. He tightened his grip on the cane in his hand and steadied, widening his stance a bit and he looked up at the woman, the savior. "Emma," he said and she was clearly startled. He couldn't hide the small smile on his face, feeling the curse's breaking coming closer. Her blue eyes held his brown. "What a lovely name," he commented offhandedly.

"Thanks," she said, not entirely sure it was the right response.

He gave her a smirk while Madam Lucas handed him a bundle of bills. He took it as per his Gold-persona's instructions and waved off the lady's reassurance that it was all there.

"You have a nice stay. Emma," he said and turned, grabbing the doorknob. He caught Miss Lucas' disdainful look but he didn't comment or let his face react. He knew he wasn't exactly well liked. He went for his car, the cane clicking on the pavement and alerting everyone still outside that Gold was on the prowl. He quickly fired up the engine and went for the place he now knew as home. On the way, the streetlights flashed in a bright golden band around his finger. He frowned then hoped Regina hadn't married him off to one of the princesses. As he drove he counted off the people Regina could possibly pair him with out of spite.

He walked up to his front door, having come to the conclusion that all the princesses he knew he had already seen in this town with someone else or too afraid of Gold to be married to him. He saw light in the windows, so whoever it was, was definitely home.

Brace yourself Rumpelstiltskin, he thought and pushed the door open silently. He sneaked inside, hoping to see whoever was inside before they saw him. To try and soften the surprise and possible heart attack he was about to give himself. He could hear noises from the kitchen and he put his cane down as gently as he could as he took careful steps towards the sound. But all he saw when he entered the room was a whirring mixer and a cookbook with some sort of cake recipe opened.

Then a hand covered his eyes from behind him. Gold could faintly spot the glint of a golden ring similar to his own. The hand was definitely too large for a woman, but Gold shrugged it off. He could deal with a man. It might be a tad awkward but he could deal with it.

"I'm not guessing who," Gold deadpanned. The person behind him chuckled, and it was definitely a man. The person breathed on his neck and Gold quickly stepped out of the guy's reach, suppressing an uncomfortable shiver. He turned his head and received possibly the biggest surprise of his life.

This man was not from Fairytale Land. Gold remembered this man had come from the Land Without Magic; he'd crossed the border, as the man and son had so many years ago. He'd been camping by himself by the water and he'd been inside the town border as the town appeared before him. What was his name- His name was Ian.

Ian.

Ian gave him an odd look and Gold realized he'd let his surprise and confusion show, "Hey."

Ian raised an eyebrow, "Hey? You're home late and _that's_ what you have for me?"

Oh, the guy was British, probably English. His tone was playful and something similar to a smile pulled at the corners of Gold's mouth, feeling the familiarity of the situation. Ian was like that. It felt homely.

It all felt a little overwhelming all of a sudden and he tried to focus on his breathing. He tried not to let the stress show but then he got dizzy and his vision darkened. Moments later his surprise took over and he fell forward into complete blackness and a pair of arms.

-x-x-x-

When he woke up again it was to a beeping heart monitor and bright lights above him. He squinted and turned his head to the side, feeling a headache approach. As he turned he could make out a person sitting by his bedside and upon further inspection- it was still Ian. Why was he- Oh, right. Domestic partnership was what they called it. He glanced down and raised his hand, staring at the gold ring around his finger. He looked back to Ian, his hands folded in his lap. He dug deeper, his fake memories slowly surfacing and melting together with his real ones. Regina was an imaginative one, the town feeling as natural as Fairytale Land had.

He had actually planned to go to Regina's to subtly gloat at Emma Swan's arrival, but there was no way he was doing that now. Plus, now he had the added bonus of pretending he was in love with this man. Years of memories would hopefully make that easy. He swallowed, considering cutting his ties with Ian completely, giving a lame excuse. But he decided against it; Regina would be on him like a hawk. Something in his head had hoped it was Belle wearing the golden band, but then the rest of his head reminded him that she was dead and couldn't be part of the curse in the first place. On the other hand, Ian wasn't a part of the curse to begin with either. At least he didn't think so, knowing most faces on Fairytale Land pretty well after 300 years of deal making. Regina must have thought Ian would distract him from gaining too much power in town and let him be included in the curse. There was no other reason, Regina surely not wanting him to be happy when she assimilated Ian to the curse. But he had been pretty happy with Ian.

"Nathaniel," Ian suddenly caught his attention. Nathaniel was his name? Regina didn't have the best imagination after all. More memories settled in his head, Ian awake and moving the chair closer. He grabbed Gold's hand and Gold had to suppress a grimace. But for now he had to allow it, and it wasn't exactly uncomfortable either. Ian had a habit of holding his hand and hopefully Gold would fall back into this routine fairly quickly. "How are you feeling, luv?" Ian asked, concern burning in his eyes.

"I'm fine," Gold said, his voice bordering on slurring. True, his head hurt but that was because of the lights. And there wasn't anything to be done for his leg anyway.

"Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack," Ian breathed out.

"For a moment I thought I was actually having one," Gold retorted, not entirely as caustically as he could have. Ian flinched but he was used to Gold's sarcastic quips and only shot him a not too kind look. Gold swallowed, "What're the doctors saying?"

"They don't know why you fainted. They said they'd run more tests but last I heard, they didn't know anything more than the fact that you collapsed," Ian said, glancing at the door to the room.

"I could have told them that," Gold snapped.

"I told them, and then they asked another dozen questions," Ian complained.

"Had a tough day then," Gold said dryly.

Ian groaned, "You have no idea." Ian then squeezed Gold's hand and their matching rings clinked together. Gold cast a quick glance to the golden bands and then let his eyes drift to the window. The sun was up, but clouds covered it pretty well.

"Mr. Gold? Mr. Rawlings?" Whale's silent entrance startled them both and he looked apologetic. "How are you feeling, Mr. Gold?" he asked, a clipboard under one arm.

"Fine," Gold said shortly.

"No pain?"

"Only the one in my leg, but I'm rather used to that one," Gold said calmly. It was no secret he didn't like doctors and Whale – Victor Frankenstein – was certainly no exception. Ian coughed but Gold ignored him, nodding to the clipboard under Whale's arm, "I'm assuming you have some sort of conclusion for me?"

Whale grimaced and took a step closer, "That's the thing; there's no explanation. We have tested practically everything, but there's no explanation what so ever for your collapse."

"I see," Gold said with a tight smile. "I'm free to go home then?" he asked.

Whale shook his head negative, "Not yet; could you please describe how you felt just before you passed out?"

Gold frowned, "Dizzy. It was difficult to breathe and then everything turned dark."

"No nausea, no pain of any kind?" Whale prodded.

"No, none of that," Gold said firmly. Was Whale questioning his explanation?

Whale nodded, "I'd like one final check of the basics and then, I suppose, you can be home within the hour."

-x-x-x

It was interesting walking from the hospital, Ian on one side and his cane on the other. He could feel the stares, most were aimed at him, but a large portion was also directed at the pair of them as a whole. Ian ignored it and so did Gold, even if his eyes twitched at every hushed whisper echoing in the hall. Though he couldn't hear them, there was no doubt it wasn't people wishing him – or them – well.

Ian gave a not entirely sad smirk, "You'd think they'd be over it by now."

"Oh, but that would be assuming something more interesting has happened in town," Gold retorted, rolling his eyes.

Ian shrugged, "Guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Gold said and Ian chuckled. Gold didn't know how to feel about making Ian laugh. Every emotion Ian felt towards him were fake – right? But if Ian had come into town of his own will, Regina assimilating him to the curse after he'd asked Gold out, then the emotions could be real? He remembered falling in love the man, every awkward moment up to their first kiss that Ian would tease him with now and then. He also remembered seeing Ian very naked and- Okay, that was definitely enough for now! For now he had to continue making Ian smile, for the sake of appearances and so that Regina didn't catch on.

"Mr. Gold."

Speaking of the devil. Regina looked like herself, except her hair was shorter. She was in business attire and a smile on her crimson lips. Ian eyed her with disdain and Gold coughed, "Ian, wait by the car please?"

Ian shot him a look but also nodded, not really wanting to deal with Regina himself.

Regina watched him leave, "I heard you took a tumble Gold. I hope you're okay."

"I'm quite fine," Gold said, his tone bordering on the pleasant.

Regina's smile was tight, like a spring, "I'm glad to hear that."

Gold cleared his throat, "By the way, I caught wind that a Miss Emma Swan came to Storybrooke last night. I remember the name from Henry's adoption. Have you introduced them yet?"

Regina's face darkened, "They've met yes, but she's already on her way back to Boston. She simply wanted to be sure he was happy."

Gold smiled coolly, loving watching Regina try to cover up the fact that she wanted Emma gone. And the savior wasn't gone. She couldn't be. It was destiny that she'd break the curse, so she had to still be here somewhere. He wasn't going to investigate however, needing to keep of Regina's radar for a while. Might take a few sick days. "I trust she was well assured. Now, I must be going. Ian's waiting," he said, his mouth maneuvering fondly around the man's first name with cursed ease.

Regina smirked, "I see. Better not keep your… partner waiting." Gold gave Regina a poisonous smirk. The sentence was an unnecessary jab at the fact that they could not be married in the state of Maine. It had almost been legal in 2009, but protesters had brought the law down before it could be put into action. Rumor had it they were planning for another go at the law in early 2012, only a few months away. Gold mentally shrugged. He really shouldn't care, but he had to keep up to make sure Ian wouldn't think he was being strange.

He went for the car and rolled his eyes as he settled in the passenger seat, Ian wearing a smirk. Ian pulled out of the hospital car park swiftly. The house hadn't changed in their absence and Gold let Ian help him out of the car simply because of the goofy look on his face. Even out if the car, Ian didn't let go of his hand and Gold endured it. Once inside, Ian pressed a quick kiss to Gold's forehead and he couldn't help but pull a face at that.

Ian chuckled, "You wound me, my love."

"No, you'd definitely feel it if that was the case," Gold said casually.

"You go get changed for bed, I'll make you some tea," Ian said, ushering him towards the stairs.

"It's not even 2 o'clock," Gold protested.

Ian shrugged, "You need to rest. Whale's orders."

"I'm not a child, Ian," Gold growled, but his tone lacked the usual edge and Ian simply smiled at him. Gold sighed and went upstairs to the bedroom and for the first time since he woke from the curse, he became keenly aware of the fact that he actually shared a bed with Ian Rawlings. It seemed like he was going to sleep in his clothes today – and until he would get comfortable with this arrangement. He shrugged out of his jacket, vest, and pulled off the tie, then jumped under the covers and breathed out. He needed to think.

Ian tutted as he entered the room with a cup in his hands. He put it on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed, "You should change, luv."

"Too tired," Gold grumbled.

Ian raised a lewd eyebrow and tugged on the collar of Gold's shirt, "I could help."

"Definitely too tired for _that_," Gold insisted, batting the hand away and tugging up the covers further.

Ian laughed and carted a hand through Gold's hair, "My poor little Nathaniel."

"Are you calling me short, Rawlings?" Gold asked and Ian huffed.

"Of course not."

It was an old argument, and it was strangely distracting at the moment.

"Not short. You're only a quarter of an inch taller, you twat. Now let me sleep."

Ian nodded towards the tea cup, "At least drink your tea?"

"Sleep first. Tea later," Gold said finally, turning in the bed and breathing out.

"You're a traitor to the flag, Nat," Ian mumbled, putting a hand on his arm before leaving him to rest. Gold turned back to the tea and picked up the cup suspiciously. The cup held the same pattern as the one Belle had dropped in his castle so many years ago. But the edge was prefect, so perfect it was a flaw. He took a quick sip of the still steaming tea and put the cup back on the table. He wasn't one to waste good tea. He closed his eyes and tried to think but his mind drifted before he could do a whole lot of thinking.

Then suddenly he was startled awake, the bed dipping in the other side and he opened his eyes, noticing the sun had gone down completely and his breath hitched. Ian Rawlings was sharing a bed with him. He closed his eyes again and tried to continue sleeping.

"You sleeping, luv?" Ian asked softly.

Gold didn't respond, hopeful that the man would go to sleep soon instead. He felt Ian shifting and then there was a hand on his shoulder and he felt Ian lean in. A gentle kiss was pressed to his cheek and Ian leaned back with a satisfied sigh. Gold swallowed and resisted the urge to scrub his face clean. But the kiss had been too gentle to bother him.


	2. One Day More

Now, Ian was no idiot. Something was different with Nat. Something Ian couldn't put his finger on.

Ian remembered very well the first two years of this relationship, where Nat didn't like Ian touching him. Kissing was occasionally allowed, but certainly not in public. It wasn't until they'd reached the 3-year mark that Ian had gathered up the courage to hold Nat's hand in public and it was the first time Nat had allowed it. Since then it had been a steady journey for the better.

Which was why Ian didn't understand he wasn't allowed to hold Nat tonight. Usually Ian was the big spoon and cuddled like crazy and Nat would only huff at him. But tonight he'd actually pushed him off in his sleep. And hogged the blankets, but Nat always did that.

The sun began rising, hitting the window and Ian straight in the eyes. He felt Nat shift.

"Are you awake?" he asked. It didn't sound any less stupid as you got older, Ian decided.

Nat grumbled something under his breath, shifted again and breathed out heavily.

Not awake then.

Ian almost wanted to laugh. He shot a glance at the clock and frowned. Nat hadn't set the clock. Nat had overslept. What? "Nat?" he tried, a little louder.

"Hm?" Nat grunted, not moving a muscle.

"Did you turn off the alarm?"

Nat paused, "What?"

"I think you overslept," Ian said with a smirk.

Nat paused again before shrugging, "The shop'll survive."

"Having a lie in then?" Ian asked, shifting closer.

Nat breathed in, "I think having a lie in refers to sleeping. Yet I am awake."

Ian chuckled, "Alright, ten more minutes?"

Nat didn't respond, just pulled the covers up to his chin and sighed. Ian smiled at the display. It was rare for Ian to wake before his partner. Nat was an early riser, his internal clock scarily accurate when it came to waking two and a half minute before the alarm. Ian grinned like an idiot and rolled towards him, reaching an arm across and resting a hand on Nat's stomach.

Nat tensed.

"What are you doing?"

Ian's smile faltered, "I'm cudling."

"Oh. Does it have to involve my stomach?" Nat's question was on the verge of snapping Ian quickly removed his hand and settled it on Nat's hip instead. It seemed to be acceptable, and Nat rested back against the pillow. Ian really wished he could see Nat's face. Know why he was suddenly so upset by the idea of cuddling.

Ian had always been the sappy one, but even though he may deny it to his grave, Nat craved touch like crazy. One day Ian had run his fingers through the man's hair because it looked soft – and it was – and Nat had damn near purred. Not if you asked him, of course.

Ian breathed out, feeling the silk beneath his hand and his mind wandered a bit farther.

_"__Who's that?" Ian asked, his eyes tracking the man currently limping across the street._

_The Mayor followed his line of sight and her lips briefly curled into something disdainful, "That is Mr. Gold. He owns the antiques shop down the road and he's landlord of most the properties around here."_

_"__Oh," Ian said and then winced internally at how stupid he sounded. "Is there a Mrs. Gold also?" he asked. If he'd been referred as Mr., then surely there must be a-_

_"__No, I'm afraid Mr. Gold has always had… issues," the mayor settled for. She coughed, "I think you may ask anyone in town, and you'll find he's not exactly well liked."_

_"__Why not?" Ian asked._

_The Mayor looked like she'd never been asked before, "With him, everything has a price. Half the town thinks he doesn't have a heart." She ended with a short laugh, like she'd just aired a private joke._

_"__Sounds lonely," Ian mumbled under his breath. He caught the mayor's eye, "Maybe I should introduce myself."_

_"__I'm afraid Mr. Gold's not the type to have friends," the mayor said, again looking like she'd said something incredibly amusing and trying to hide it._

_"__Oh, well I was only thinking of a drink," Ian said aloud, instantly regretting it when he saw the mayor nearly snorting out a laugh. It seemed she'd seen through him._

_"__Mr. Rawlings, I wouldn't think Gold would be interested," she said firmly, putting pressure on the last word and he could have sworn her eyebrows were raised, just a fraction of an inch._

_"__Only one way to find out," he replied, voice echoing more confidence than he actually felt._

_The mayor shot him a look of surprise, but gave him a sharp smile and let him go without more words. Ian walked towards the direction of the shop she had mentioned._

_Mr. Gold Pawnbroker &amp; Antiquities Dealer._

_Did this guy not have a first name?_

_He looked at the displays in the windows. Everything looked clean and tidied, despite containing hundreds upon hundreds of items. He could see a sword, a globe, glass unicorns, several clocks, assorted pieces of jewelry and bits and pieces of fine china. He couldn't possibly account for every item even if he had a month to do it in._

_"__May I help you?"_

_Ian almost jumped, and he turned on his heel._

_Mr. Gold was more handsome up close._

_And that accent should be illegal._

_"__No, I'm just looking," Ian spat out and Gold shot him a doubting look. One raised eyebrow was all it took for Ian to know that Gold thought he was an idiot._

_"__In that case; please?" Gold gestured and for a moment Ian was frozen. Before he finally realized he was standing almost directly in front of the door to the shop and awkwardly shuffled out of the way. Gold limped past him without a glance and Ian swallowed._

_Well. That went well._

_He breathed out, looking back towards the diner he'd initially been pointed towards. He started walking, only once turning to look back at Mr. Gold's shop. He then noticed a nice car parked down the alley beside the shop and secretly envied Gold's apparently decent paycheck. He was so busy looking he bumped straight into a redhead and the man's Dalmatian._

_"__Oh, I'm sorry," Ian instantly said, reaching out to steady the wobbling man. The dog's tail wagged and it inched closer. Ian let the dog lick his hand before the owner began speaking._

_"__Please, I wasn't looking either," he said, voice soft. The redhead looked Ian up and down, "Are you new in town?"_

_"__Is it that obvious?" Ian sighed._

_The man laughed, "Sorry. The town is pretty close to one another. My name's Archie Hopper."_

_Ian stuck his hand out and they shook, "Ian Rawlings."_

_"__May I ask where you're headed?" Hopper asked, a gentle smile on his lips. This man somehow had the ability to calm anyone within a radius of three feet._

_"__Um. Granny's B&amp;B? I'm looking at a place to stay for the night," Ian said._

_"__Well, Granny's is just when you come into town. How did you miss it?" Hopper asked._

_Ian coughed, "Well, I became distracted by Gold's… shop."_

_"__Ah, that man does have very interesting items," Hopper nodded. This time the smile was more forced and Ian was dying to know why everyone seemed so disdainful of Gold. And if he should abandon this pursuit now, and leave for England. "Very lonely though, I should think," Hopper continued._

_"__Oh?" Ian played dumb._

_It worked, and Hopper elaborated, "Well, he pretty much owns the town, so everyone's afraid of him."_

_"__You too?" Ian asked._

_Hopper snorted, "Well… he isn't the kind to spit insults and harmful words in people's face. But he can be very blunt, and he's highly unlikely to give second chances without some sort of price. Everything has a price in his world."_

_"__Even plain kindness?"_

_"__I don't think the word 'kind' is something he's too familiar with," Hopper said._

_"__Well, I shall introduce it to him over a drink," Ian said quickly. If he spoke this with a witness there'd be no turning back. Now he'd made an informal promise, both to himself and to Hopper._

_Hopper's eyes widened, somewhat admiring, "I must say, I don't think anyone in town can brag about buying Gold a drink."_

_"__I like to stand out from the crowd," Ian smirked and once again his words were more confident than his heart._

_"__Good luck with that. I'm afraid I must be going now," Hopper said._

_"__Of course," Ian stepped aside and Hopper nodded as a parting gesture, walking down the street with the happy Dalmatian. Ian let out a sharp breath and began to walk towards Granny's with determined steps. Tomorrow or the day after that, he would ask Mr. Gold out. For a drink. Strictly innocent._

Ian was suddenly returned from memory lane by Nat shifting under his hand. "Ready to get up now?" he asked, voice only slurring a little and he rubbed his eyes. The sun was really sharp at this time in the morning.

Nat didn't say anything as he began sitting up and Ian quickly withdrew his hand, pulling himself up on his elbows. Nat had already swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his back entirely to Ian.

"Are you alright, Nat?" Ian had to ask.

"I'm fine," Nat said slowly. Ian rolled his eyes.

"Did I do something?"

"No. No, it's nothing," Nat insisted, getting out of the bed and used the bedpost as support while limping to the bathroom. Nat didn't look angry or sad. Just tired. Ian pressed his lips together, debating whether he should forget it or ask again. "Where are my painkillers?" Nat called.

Oh. It was one of those days.

"You put them under the sink," Ian called back.

"Right."

Ian sighed, "Shall I drive you to the shop?"

"No."

Great. Single syllables ahoy.

This was going to be a great day.


	3. Boring Lives

"Are you okay?" Ian asked for the 8th time today and Gold was beginning to become annoyed.

"Yes, I'm fine," he responded for the 8th time. Today hadn't exactly started out well, being sneaked up on and "cuddled" with, and his ankle was on fire. He hadn't stayed at the shop for long after all. But despite not really wanting to go home and face his… love- partner. Partner was a better word. Despite not wanting to go home and face his partner, since this guy was the type to touch and pet, he'd gritted his teeth and done it. And Gold wasn't comfortable with that yet. Hopefully he would get used to it.

"Want to watch a movie?" Ian asked. It seemed that he was being lazy today as well. The animal shelter wasn't that busy usually, and Ian's other staff member had been called and ordered to work. Had Ian done that on purpose? So he could stay home and- no! That would be ridiculous. People wouldn't do things like that for him, Gold decided rationally.

But he shrugged, "Alright. Any suggestions?"

"You decide and I'll go make tea," Ian said instead, shooting him what was supposed to be a dazzling smile. Gold had to admit Ian was… nice. So he gave a small smile in return and Ian went for the kitchen. Which meant Gold was alone with the DVD shelf. Oh great!

Most of the titles provided a strange feeling of nostalgia. Most of the movies had been watched frequently, and Gold decided on one he knew Ian would enjoy. Might keep the Englishman distracted from asking too many questions.

"I saw a new face in town today," Ian said gleefully.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I caught her name. Emma Swan. Turns out she's Henry's biological mother," Ian continued, looking terribly smug and Gold frowned.

"Did you listen in on someone?" he asked incredulously.

"In my defense, it was an accident," Ian said, walking back to the couch with two cups of boiled water and a pack of tea bags. Gold honestly didn't understand why some American's heated their water in the microwave. Why on earth that would be the best way to make tea, was beyond his comprehension. Gold reclined in the couch and handed the DVD to Ian.

Ian's whole face lit up as he saw the cover, "You just choose this to shut me up."

"I have no idea what you're referring to," Gold said calmly, picking up his cup and a bag.

Ian snorted but didn't speak as he put in the disc. As soon as the movie hit play, Ian reclined right up next to him, leaning on him a bit too much for Gold to be entirely comfortable. He shot Ian a look, raising his cup just enough to let Ian know he was squashing him. Ian moved back half an inch and settled with one foot on the table and his shoulder against Gold's.

It could be worse, Gold decided and took a sip of Earl Grey.

He didn't pay much attention to the plot of the movie. Tarantino wasn't what he usually went for on movie nights – and yes, he suddenly remembered these sorts of nights were a normal thing – plus Ian would talk his ear off about all the trivia he knew, so there was no real need to _watch_ the movie.

"You're zoning out, Nat," Ian muttered.

"I'm just thinking, Gold said, and he could hear the irritation in his own voice. It wasn't even time for dinner yet and he was ready to go to bed to get away from this. Cuddling and snuggling. The Dark One did _not_ cuddle or snuggle.

"You know you can take your painkillers twice a day," Ian reminded him.

Gold blinked, "I'm well aware."

"Do you want to watch something else?" Ian asked, and Gold had to give him bonus points for consideration. Gold didn't really care for what they saw, but Ian took his silence as an affirmative and he get out of the couch. The sudden lack of heat against his side made Gold shiver. He rolled his shoulder and an ache loosened. He took a sip of his tea and almost spat it back out. Cold tea lacked appeal.

Ian returned to the couch and Gold turned his eyes back to the screen. His head quickly made the connection to the actor's face. This wasn't a movie, but a TV-show. "You want to see this so you can feel smart," Gold accused.

Ian shot him a smirk and Gold rolled his eyes. Ian nudged his shoulder, "You want to see it too."

"Oh, I do?" Gold asked with raised eyebrows.

"Don't deny it. You have a thing for Tim Roth."

"How do you think I fell for you?" Gold shot back, managing to not stumble over his words and look like a complete idiot. Ian did have a resemblance to the actor on the screen. But Ian's hair was more blonde. And grey in select places that Ian claimed he didn't see.

Gold had more grey in his hair and Ian didn't bother teasing him with it anymore. There was a three-year difference between them, Ian being the older one and the man had taken great pleasure in teasing Gold about his silver streaks of hair. Whenever Gold pointed out Ian's own grey hairs, Ian claimed his hair was getting brighter, not grey.

"This show didn't air until 2009, you twat," Ian retuned and Gold had to see himself beat.

"I had something real before the show aired," he offered and Ian huffed.

"We only have time for one episode, and then you got to make dinner."

"I have to make dinner?"

"It's your turn."

"We didn't have dinner yesterday, so technically-"

"Technically, I had dinner alone because you had been ordered to bed. Don't try and wiggle out of this one, Nat. It's not going to happen," Ian insisted.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Gold said with narrowed eyes.

"Don't worry, you have almost half an hour to figure something out," Ian said cheerfully and rested his head on Gold's shoulder. Gold didn't bother to fight him off, and instead leaned back. He might as well enjoy his final minutes of peace.

"I'm going to be at the shop for quite a while tomorrow," Gold began.

"Oh?"

"Ms. Boyd and I have an arrangement."

"The pregnant girl?"

"Yes. She didn't specify when she was coming by."

Truth be known, the Boyd girl had only made the agreement to give the child away to a couple in Boston when it was born. Which could be any day now, actually. Ian had been excited about the idea of children. But Gold had firmly denied the possibility. Firmly enough that Ian had agreed to not ask again for a while. And now Rumpelstiltskin was putting his foot down as well. He had a son. A beautiful boy lost somewhere in this horrible world.

"The shop closes at 9; you promised to start clearing out the spare room," Ian said firmly and Gold paused. He'd forgotten about that. "If you're not home at 9:30 I'm calling Graham on you," Ian said sternly.

Gold rolled his eyes, "Maybe you should call me first?"

"Nah, you never pick up anyway."

"Then text me as well. Those phones vibrate every five seconds anyway!" Gold said.

"Please. You can't time your alarm on your phone, let alone send a text," Ian laughed.

"I'm going to make dinner," Gold decided, standing and leaving Ian to fall against the armrest of the couch. Luckily, both Gold and Rumpelstiltskin enjoyed cooking.

"Are you mad at me?" Ian called.

"No," Gold called back, looking in the fridge for anything he could use.

"It's not my fault you're horrible with technology!"

"Pen and paper doesn't run out of power," Gold shot back, picking out cheese, diced ham and mushrooms. The dough was store bought, but it would have to do. He sliced up the mushrooms fairly quickly and put them in a hot pan. Mixing cheese and ham was easy enough and the heat then transferred from the mushrooms made the mixture more liquid. It sounded disgusting, but the smell was divine. Stuff it in the dough, put it all in the oven and half an hour later, dinner was served.

He returned to the living room to a practically drooling partner, "Smells good."

"Yes, you might want to clean the puddle off the floor once your mouth closes," Gold teased.

Ian's mouth closed almost audibly and Gold was in the receiving end of a glare.

"You love me," Gold continued, somewhat teasingly to disguise how little he believed it.

"You're a decent wife."

"Wife?!"

"Your hair's the longest."

"You-"

"I'm joking, Nat!"

"You'll wait until the food is cold before you eat, Mr. Rawlings."

"Oh, come on, Nat!"

"You just count yourself lucky you're not sleeping on the couch! Maybe you should sleep on the couch…"

"I'm sorry, alright. It was a quip."

Gold sighed, "I know that."

Ian stood and inched closer, "Can I make it up to you."

"Perhaps," Gold settled for and suddenly Ian was in his face, the lewd look returning and Gold swallowed. "Not now though. I am going to shower while the food's getting done," Gold said.

"May I-"

"No, you may not join me, Ian!" Gold said firmly and headed upstairs, very grateful that his back was turned so that Ian couldn't see his face burning. Ian didn't call for him and Gold locked the bathroom and let out a deep breath. This was only his second day awake and already he was beginning to hope Miss Swan would hurry up and break this damned curse. But Ian was nice and did everything Gold would suspect partners to do when in a relationship that had lasted for almost 30 years. He was considerate, joking, and respected boundaries.

Gold didn't trust him.

Yet.

But it was a start.


	4. Crack On!

Ian sighed and picked up his phone. 9:20.

He dialed Nat's number and held it against his ear. It rang almost five times before it was picked up.

"Hello?"

Ian wasn't impressed, "Do you know what time it is?"

"… What?"

"It's twenty past nine, Nat. Get your posterior back here and start clearing out that room," Ian deadpanned, waiting patiently for Nat to agree.

"If you insist."

"I do. And if you're not home in five minutes-"

"I'm walking, Ian," Nat reminded him

"Ten minutes then, I'm calling Graham."

"Maybe you could give me a lift. I'll be home sooner that way," Nat said.

"Just get home, Nat," Ian sighed.

"Bye, Ian."

Ian tossed the phone back to the couch and settled with his bowl of soup at the table. It was still hot and would only need a little heating when Nat came home. Ian breathed out with knitted brows. Nat was acting strange. Not only had he changed in the bathroom last night, but he'd once again pushed Ian's hands off him whenever Ian rolled towards him. It reminded him very much of their first few years together. But as far as he could tell, nothing had really happened to Nat. Other than fainting the other day.

Had something happened? Surely Whale would have found out if there was something wrong. But now the thought was stuck, and it festered. But what sort of disease would have that effect? Or maybe Nat wasn't interested in him anymore-

Ian quickly smacked himself mentally.

Calm down.

Nat had always been honest with him.

He would tell, if something was going on.

Ian looked at the clock. Nathaniel might have a habit of staying up late and lose track of time but he always responds when Ian calls him. It was now 9:37 and Ian wasn't as calm as he appeared. He sighed and hung up on his fourth try, staring at the display for a while before cursing to himself.

He grabbed the car key and headed for the Cadillac.

-x-

"The window's been broken," Ian said aloud. The lights were off and the door was shut; from the outside it looked peaceful. He grabbed the handle and the apparently unlocked door opened, creaking as it went and the bell seemed impossibly loud. "Shit. Nat!" Ian cussed, hurrying inside. Nat was on the floor, a cut on the side of his head and he wasn't moving. His cane had been dropped and although Ian hoped it had simply been a fall, the smashed window spoke otherwise.

"Nat?" Ian called, trying to shake the man awake.

"Wha-" Nat slurred, squinting up at him.

"Nat, you awake?" Graham asked loudly and Nat winced.

"I am now," he said quietly, putting one hand over his eyes.

Ian helped the man sit against the counter and he went into detective-mode, "What happened?" Nat didn't answer, a thoughtful look on his face and Ian swallowed, "I'll call an ambulance."

"No ambulance, I'm fine," Nat insisted.

"Say that to the open wound on your forehead," Ian snorted and fished out his phone.

Nathaniel put his hand over Ian's, locking eyes with him, "No ambulance. Other than a massive headache, I'm fine."

"Then tell me what happened," Ian said, crossing his arms.

"I tripped and fell," Nat responded and Ian huffed. Nat shot him a look, "Laugh all you want, you're the one who fell in love with me."

"Did you take your painkillers?" Ian asked with one raised eyebrow.

Nat pressed his lips together, "No."

"You're an idiot then," Ian reasoned.

Nat crossed his arms, "Just get me home."

"What's the magic word?" Ian grumbled, dragging Nat upright.

Nat's reply was strangely gleeful, "Please?"

"Depends. Are you going to tell me what really happened?" Ian asked and patted himself on the back when Nat's face froze in a razor sharp smile. "I know you didn't fall. And your eyes are red. I'm guessing you got mazed," Ian suggested calmly.

Nat pressed his lips together, "I have it under control."

"Sure you do," Ian rolled his eyes and deposited Nat in the passenger seat. As he got into the driver's seat, a thought struck him, "Did Ashley do this?"

Nat didn't reply and Ian groaned.

"Nat, you have to report it-"

"And what will happen to her? She's pregnant, about to give birth any day now. I can't report her for this," Nat said and Ian saw his point. "I'll ask Miss Swan to help me find her tomorrow. She's good at finding people," he continued.

Ian hummed, "I don't like it. I still think you should go to the hospital. I'm not stitching that up in our bathroom!"

"I don't need stitches!"

"I'm still taking you to the ER," Ian insisted and Nat leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms in silent protest. In had to almost drag him out of the car when they arrived at the bright lights of the hospital. "Could someone take a look at that?" Ian asked, pointing to the cut on Nat's forehead and the nurse swallowed when she saw her patient. In the end the wound was glued and while Ian talked to Whale, a small bandage was put on to cover it. A bandage Nat immediately tore off when they got home. Ian looked at the pot of soup still on the table, "You hungry?"

"No," Nat grumbled, already heading upstairs for the bedroom. When Ian had finished clearing the table, Nat had already changed and went under the covers. He was turned away from Ian again.

"Are you alright, Nat?"

Nat snarled, "For the last time, I'm fine-"

"No, I mean… You'd tell me if something was the matter, right?" Ian asked, changing and going under the covers.

"Yes, I would," Nat replied, but the pause had been too long.

Ian decided not to pursue tonight. They both needed their sleep.


	5. A Date With Reality

Gold could tell Ian wasn't entirely pleased with the outcome of the Miss Boyd contract. But he couldn't begin caring now. What was done was done. Ashley was keeping her child and the romance between her and Sean seemed to be blooming again. How wonderful.

Nauseating more like it.

Then without warning, Graham had died.

Heart attack they called it.

Gold didn't doubt who was behind it. And the anger burned him. But while the town mourned – he did as well, of course – he was trying to figure out how the hell she had done it. To do what she'd done she would need magic. And magic didn't exist in Storybrooke, Maine.

To add insult to injury, Regina tried to appoint Sidney Glass as the new Sherriff. Not if Gold had a say in it. So he took the town charter under one arm and paid the Savior a small visit. If there was any luck left in this world, Regina wouldn't be suspicious. And once he'd seen the fire burn in Emma Swan's eye, he knew she was going all the way.

But of course, Sidney had to dig up dirty details of the Savior's past and suddenly Gold was committing arson. After a slightly heated discussion with Miss Swan, he'd returned home and Ian had been waiting in the living room. Both of them could smell the smoke and lanolin.

Ian shot him a look, "What happened?"

"I set fire to the mayor's office," he said, trying to sound calm and collected.

"You did what?" Ian sounded so disbelieving it almost made Gold laugh.

He held the humor back however and replied as casually as he could, "I set fire to the mayor's office."

Ian was quiet for a while and Gold didn't know what to expect. Most likely a long conversations on why being a pyromaniac wasn't good for the country. "Alright, you got me. I'm lost. Why on Earth would you do that?" Ian asked, completely dumbfounded.

"I had to give Miss Swan a heroic reputation," Gold said calmly.

"Two questions; why do you know how to set fire to buildings and why do you want to give Miss Swan a heroic reputation?" Ian asked, crossing his arms.

"I read," Gold offered lamely to the first question and Ian shot him a look, one frustrated eyebrow raised. Gold didn't comment and answered question number two, "If Miss Swan is going to be sheriff, she needs the reputation."

"Why is it important that she becomes sheriff?" Ian asked.

"Regina wanted to appoint Sidney," Gold said simply and Ian gave a conceding look.

-x-x-x-

The next morning Ian sat by Gold's side as he was exposed, shooting him a shocked look – not very convincing in Gold's opinion, but it would have to do – and they both left with Ian pretending to be incredibly upset. Which was partially true. He was upset, but mostly because he hadn't been told of the fire beforehand.

As Emma Swan walked into the station later that day, Gold was already there smiling at her.

Emma stared at him, "You set this up?"

"They needed to see that you weren't afraid of me. They might fear Regina, but they're more afraid of me," Gold said, sounding somewhat proud of that fact.

Emma gritted her teeth, "Ian didn't look very surprised."

Gold raised an eyebrow, "He didn't? He isn't the best actor but hopefully he had the town fooled."

"Did he know?" Emma demanded.

"I came home smelling like smoke," Gold shrugged.

"And he pretended he didn't because..?" Emma didn't get it.

"When people saw he was surprised, they figured that he had no knowledge of my hand in the fire – which is true. Thus they conclude that he had nothing to do with it," Gold reasoned sharply. "I don't particularly mind people's dislike for me. But their opinion of Ian is clouded by their opinion of me," he said.

Emma didn't reply. She didn't know much of Gold's boyfriend, and most of the town wasn't terribly keen on discussing either of them in particularly kind words. Gold seemed to care little of his reputation, but protective of Ian's. Sign of a close relationship, Emma supposed.

"If that was all…" Gold gestured to the door and when Emma simply nodded, he exited the station. Emma watched him go and sat on the edge of the table. She couldn't sit in the chair. Not yet.

She had to tell someone about this.

Gold had set fire to a building to make her sheriff. It wasn't enough to expose him. It seemed no one was going to do anything about it. He had free reign, and that was dangerous.

Call Archie.

Have them talk.

In worst case; have Gold committed.

Maybe it was overreacting, but frankly his calm attitude towards this whole thing frightened her.


	6. Do I Have To Spell It Out For You?

It was a terribly awkward sensation; knowing you've had sex with someone while cursed. Now he was awake and blushing constantly because Ian couldn't keep his hands to himself. Gold had finally reached the stage where hand holding had become alright, although public displays of this were still strictly forbidden. Ian didn't seem to mind and Gold was in slight awe of the man's patience.

Being basically married to someone who was reluctant to touch you must be a true test of dedication. And Ian seemed to take it in stride. Ian had infinite amounts of patience.

The kissing was still a somewhat uncharted territory for Gold, and he didn't really know if wanted to explore the possibility. Ian would without a doubt be willing to provide with plenty of practical demonstrations, but Gold… didn't like using Ian.

Whenever Gold kissed Ian, it was for purely selfish reasons. Mostly. He sometimes kissed Ian because Ian initiated it. But Gold's reasons were selfish. Ian was nice, and loved him. Loved Nathaniel Gold. And he was still that person underneath the layers of Rumpelstiltskin that had appeared.

Now, Rumpelstiltskin was no stranger to men. But despite his flamboyant attitude, he'd never actually pursued a man romantically. Or sexually for that matter. Crushes; sure. But honest to God potential lifelong companionship? Never.

And now he was in the middle of a long – romantic and sexual – relationship with a man who had asked _him_ out first. Who'd expressed interest without prompting and asked him out with the same level of anxiety as a teen with a crush.

Honest intentions.

Without trust, there could be no love.

So Nathaniel Gold had obviously thought Ian honest and trustworthy, otherwise this relationship wouldn't still exist. But Rumpelstiltskin was awake. And he didn't know Ian like Nathaniel did. Sure he could still talk wistfully about Ian's blue eyes and blonde hair, and the way he smiled like everything was perfect. But now he stared in the mirror and only saw a lie staring back.

They might as well be strangers.

Gold didn't mind waking up with Ian's arm around his waist. He didn't mind the morning kisses where Ian's still blurry vision barely allowed the kiss to land on the face. He didn't mind being held when they had movie nights on the couch.

But the everlasting game of charades had begun pulling on his façade.

He sometimes caught the strange looks, the wary smiles and the shrugs with one unsure shoulder.

He sometimes knew that Ian was silently wondering what was going on.

Which was why he was staring with wide eyes at his partner, on one knee beside him by the breakfast table. He was frozen in place, staring at Ian with an increasingly skeptic look, "Excuse me?"

Ian appeared unfazed at Gold's reaction, "Marry me? Properly. Look, I know you don't want a fancy ceremony and all that, and I promise it won't be like that-"

"I can't," Gold said, trying to sound neutral.

"What?" Ian's face fell and he reached out for Gold, who stood and took a step back.

"I can't marry you," he said, enunciating his words clearly.

Ian was quiet for a while, putting on an uneasy smile, "Why not?"

Gold searched for words, "I just can't… You wouldn't understand-"

"Try me," Ian insisted.

"I just can't, Ian!" Gold said firmly. He pressed his lips together and tried to come up with a proper excuse that wasn't clouded in mystery and metaphor. He never imagined he'd ever have to decline a marriage proposal from anyone. "I… I just can't, alright?" he continued lamely and watched as the light in Ian's eyes slowly died.

"Okay," Ian said after a few seconds of silence. His face didn't change but his voice betrayed him. He shot a quick glance to his watch and was already halfway out the door before he called, "I got to go. Be back later tonight, alright?"

"Of course," Gold said, Ian closing the door and making his way towards the animal shelter. Gold sighed. Perfect. If Regina caught wind of this…

-x-x-x-

"He likes to mingle," Gold said with a shrug.

Emma frowns, "And you don't. I can't imagine why."

"He's got a nice face, but I've got serial killer written on my forehead."

Emma raises an eyebrow at the unexpected crudeness.

Gold shrugs, "That's what everyone says when they think neither of us is around."

"What does Ian think of it?"

"Peoples dislike of me? He doesn't really mind; he knows me, they don't," Gold continued, his voice calm and plain.

"What's with Ian today anyway?" Emma asked then, putting the compass back in her pocket.

Gold averted his eyes, "We had a disagreement."

"What about? He seemed really down," Emma said and Gold paused.

"He asked me to marry him. Properly," he said shortly and Emma's mouth formed an 'o'. He coughed, "You can figure out what my answer was."

"Yeah, but can I ask why? You've been in civil partnership or whatever for years, what's stopping you?" Emma sounding like she genuinely wanted an answer but felt awkward asking.

He considered it, "A number of things."

Emma took the hint and nodded, "Okay. Thanks for the name. Be sure to talk to Ian when you get home."

"Thank you Miss Swan," he said curtly. He didn't want her advice nor did he need it. He then quickly spoke up, "And Miss Swan?" Emma turned, hand on the handle. He grimaced, "Don't tell Mayor Mills. She will undoubtedly come around and ask questions."

"What business does Mayor Mills have with your love life?" Emma raised an eyebrow.

"None. But she's always disliked me – and my relationship with Ian isn't exactly helping," he said steadily, hoping his message got through. Emma gave him a sympathetic look and nodded.

"I'll keep quiet," she disappeared out the shop and silence settled in the room.

-x-x-x-

But apparently Ian was being moody enough for the whole town to notice and soon, Regina's high heels sauntered into the shop, the wearer of said heels smiling sadly. Or something close to sadly. In any case it was faked. "I hear Mr. Rawlings is pretty upset," she began innocently.

"Is there something you want Madam Mayor?" Gold asked, not bothering to hide the fact that he did not want to talk to her about this.

"I was simply concerned on his behalf," she responded.

"Was there something you wanted from me in particular? Otherwise, I am quite busy," he said and as she opened her mouth to respond he held up a hand. "Please," he said firmly, turning away from her to leaf through the pages of an old book. He didn't have to look to know she was leaving. The deal still stood and the bell above the door jingled twice to announce her departure.

His phone rang not many minutes later and the ID read Ian. He paused but eventually took it, "Hello?"

"You sound distracted, should I call later?" Ian asked.

Gold shook his head negative, "No, it's fine. I just had to fend off Mayor Mills a while ago."

Ian gave a dry laugh, "Hopefully she ran away screaming. When are you going to be home?"

Gold frowned, "I own the place, I'm pretty sure I can leave whenever I want to."

"You know what I mean," Ian said, frustration soaking through.

Gold sighed, "I know. I just began dusting off an old book, but as I said, I can leave whenever I want. I'll just finish this and then I'll be home in an hour?"

-x-x-x-

"I didn't mean to freak you out," Ian began, running a hand through his blond hair. It stood up in all directions and it looked strangely fitting.

Gold shook his head, "You didn't freak me out. I just… wasn't prepared. You know I hate surprises."

Ian gave a wry smile, "Yeah, sorry. It just felt right, you know?" Gold didn't respond, only twisted the cup in his hand. It was his favorite tea, but he didn't have the appetite right now.

"Why do you want to marry me?" he asked instead.

Ian scoffed, holding up his hand and letting his ring glint in the light, "I thought we'd established that a while ago."

Gold sighed, "We did, yes, which begs the question; why marriage? Isn't this… enough?"

Ian shrugged, "I don't know. It seems right to be able to marry the person you love."

"Just because the law has been changed doesn't mean that our arrangement means any less, does it?" Gold asked heatedly. He'd had a feeling this was because of the bill being passed and marriage equality now existed in the state of Maine.

Ian quickly leaned forward in his seat and tried it grab Gold's hand, but Gold hastily leaned back and away from the table. He folded his hands in his lap as Ian explained, "No, of course not, luv. We are domestic partners because that was all we were able to have at the time, but now we can actually marry. Call each other husband and stuff like that."

"So it's a matter of principle?" Gold asked.

Ian frowned, "Why are you so against this?"

"Because I don't want to do this just because we can," Gold retorted calmly, feeling anger boil in his blood. Maybe he shouldn't be taking it as seriously as he was, it was only a curse after all, but the subject bothered him. He sighed and tried to calm down, "Look, I'm just as happy as you are that we can get married legally. But I don't want to do it simply because we can."

Ian bit his lip and looked down, "I suppose you have a point there, Nathaniel."

Gold swallowed. He breathed out through his nose, "You know I'm not the marrying type."

Ian snorted, "Yeah, I had to ask you five times before you agreed to the partnership."

"Let me think about it, alright?" Gold relented.

"I won't surprise-propose to you again," Ian smirked.

Gold shot him a look, "You better not."

Ian grimaced, then took a deep breath, "It's just, you know, I got scared after Ashley attacked you. If you'd fallen just a few inches more to the right, the corner of the counter could have cracked your skull open. Whale said you were fucking lucky you only hit the edge."

"I wouldn't have fallen at all if it weren't for this damn leg," Gold said, clicking his cane against the floor for emphasis.

Ian was unimpressed, "It's you who don't want to take your painkillers."

"They make me feel funny," Gold protested.

"And we all know you're plenty of fun without them," Ian said with a smirk and Gold shot him a look. Ian ignored the look, "Let's go to bed. David needs some assistance at the animal shelter tomorrow."

Gold didn't argue, standing and putting his cup in the sink after pouring the remaining contents down the drain. Ian was brushing his teeth when Gold began changing out of his clothes. It felt less awkward now than the first few days, but he still preferred to keep his back to Ian the entire time. Ian didn't comment on it, if he even noticed it, and only whined when he wasn't allowed to kiss Gold goodnight. Luckily that had been ritual from before he woke from the curse; Gold complaining that Ian was being sappy and Ian complaining that Gold was complaining and not kissing.

Once in his pajamas, he switched places with Ian at the sink and grabbed his own toothbrush. It was old ritual, their path being trotted into the carpet by now. Gold stepped out of the bathroom and put his cane on the floor, ignoring the come-hither look from Ian and settling under the covers with a long exhale.

"Tired, luv?" Ian asked, leaning towards him and Gold turned his head. He didn't respond and Ian only grinned, planting a soft kiss on his lips and leaning back into the pillows, letting out a content sigh. Gold had stopped grimacing at the kisses after the second day, but still pulled faces now and then just to annoy Ian.


	7. Hate Is A Strong Word

"Ian, can I ask you a favor?" Nat sounded surprisingly tense.

Ian shrugged, "Sure."

"Don't touch me unless I say otherwise," Nat continued, looking down – seemingly ashamed to even say the words – and Ian hated seeing him like that. He looked so fragile.

"Okay," Ian agreed. He could see some of the tension in Nat's shoulders disappear. He hated being the cause. "May I ask why?" he inquired.

Nat licked his lips, "Because I say so."

"Kinky."

"Ian!"

"Sorry!" Ian should feel bad. Nat looked legitimately angry. At the same time, he also looked increasingly embarrassed. "Hey, you know you can ask me anything," Ian said reassuringly, lifting one hand to reach out before remembering what he'd just promised. Instead he nudged Nat's foot with his own.

"Yeah."

"And you said that without sounding too doubtful," Ian sighed.

"I'm just feeling a bit different lately."

"Different how?" Ian asked…

Gold debated internally, wondering how he was going to explain this one. "Just… different."

"Like, I'm-ready-to-burst-into-song different or I-want-to-peel-my-skin-off different?"

The latter.

But he couldn't really say that, could he?

"Somewhere in between."

Brilliant, Rumpelstiltskin. Absolutely inconspicuous.

"May I sprawl out?" Ian asked, leaning more and more towards him and Gold rolled his eyes, but leaned back. If he didn't, Ian's weight would be uncomfortable to hold. Ian hummed and for once it was Ian who was snuggling. Not that Gold was ever the snuggler… eh, snugglee…

Ian was enjoying himself. He could listen to Nat's heartbeat when he sat like this. The movie on the screen gradually blurred, the steady thump in Nat's chest becoming somewhat distracting and calming. He wanted to fall asleep to this. And he had done so in the past. Nat would complain loudly in the morning, but he didn't have the heart to remove Ian physically. Ian found it funny how the rigid exterior held back the softie core.

Nat didn't think it was funny.

But there was one thing he did find funny.

"Nat?"

"Hm?"

"Have you seen my _fiery bicuits_?"

Ian almost fell off the couch when Nat let out a rather undignified snort of laughter.

Ian - 1 : Nat - 0


	8. Jeg Venter En Evighed

"We can talk about what you want to talk about. We can also spend the next hour in complete silence if that's what you want," Archie said, leaning back in his chair and generally making himself comfortable.

Gold wasn't exactly uncomfortable in his seat, but it took no small amount of self-control to not fidget. Swan had pushed Archie on him on purpose. And Ian had supported the notion no doubt.

"I don't want to talk," Gold said firmly, his dark eyes locked with Archie's.

"Swan thinks you're bottling up some pretty bad stuff," Archie said after a pause and Gold's jaw tensed. Archie coughed, "She was concerned for you."

"She doesn't need to be concerned. I've been bottled for a lot longer than she thinks and I have yet to blow up," Gold remarked caustically and Archie pressed his lips together.

"For instance?" Archie prompted.

Gold smiled wryly, one gold tooth flashing in the light, "Not a chance, Hopper."

Archie sighed, "Maybe we could talk about recent events? Hmm?"

"Like what?" Gold asked, his tone impossibly bored.

"You set a fire," Archie stated and Gold's eyes widened in surprise. So the cricket _could_ be brutally blunt.

"I did, yes," Gold said slowly.

Archie cocked his head to the side, "Why?"

"To make sure Miss Swan was appointed sheriff," Gold replied.

"Why was it important Miss Swan-"

"Regina was going to appoint Sidney," Gold repeated the same words he'd told Ian, and Archie nodded understandingly.

"She told the town what had happened though," Archie continued.

"Which only made her a better candidate," Gold smiled. "The town is afraid of me, and they needed to see that Miss Swan wasn't," he said, voice low with the purpose of forcing Archie to listen carefully to his words.

"Yes, how is it to be feared around town?"

"Are you afraid of me?"

Archie hesitated and Gold's eyes narrowed. "When you set the fire I was afraid _for _you," the psychiatrist answered.

"Why?"

"Even Ian seemed surprised-"

"Ian didn't know when it happened, but I told him when I came home smelling like smoke," Gold interrupted. There was no need to draw Ian into this.

"So you trust Ian?" Archie asked.

Gold leaned away, contemplating his reply. "I don't know," he settled for.

"Explain?" Archie prompted, leaning forward and his eyes were sharp.

"I don't trust people," Gold said.

"But you've been together for so long-"

"I know," Gold didn't like interrupting but he didn't need to be told things he was well aware of. His face must be pretty dark, because Archie's features all softened.

"Is there no one you trust?" the former cricket asked, sounding fairly objective and calm.

"No," Gold said plainly.

"Was there a time when you trusted people?" Archie asked and Gold could feel the conversation take a turn into the territory he'd rather keep to himself. But Archie was stubborn. A diversion wouldn't throw him, only make him more determined. He might back off, but it would be stuck in his brain until the day Gold would cave.

So Gold nodded, "There was a time."

"When did you stop?" Archie asked.

Gold thought back, "When I was nine."

"Very young," Archie commented quietly.

"Old enough to know betrayal never comes from strangers," Gold growled. He looked away briefly, "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's okay," Archie said softly.

"Stop talking to me like I'm made of glass," Gold demanded harshly. Archie took it in stride and nodded his head apologetically. "I'm not your patient. I'm here because Swan demanded it," Gold clarified, and he didn't know if it was for his own sake or Archie's.

"Why do you think Swan wanted you to see me?"

Gold shook his head, "I don't know why she would possibly think it to be a good idea."

"Do you think Ian agrees with her?" Archie asked.

"Does it matter?" Gold didn't understand this line of questioning.

"Maybe he's also concerned for you-"

"And I'm sure after this wonderful sessions, all his worries shall be put at ease?" he bit out. He could be unforthcoming if he wished to, but it got in the way of diplomacy. Right now he didn't really want to continue the conversation however, and tried to push Archie into reacting. Gold didn't need to be here. He was here because the Savior had thought it necessary. He wasn't here for himself.

At least not yet.

-x-x-x-

"Did you hear about Mary Margaret and Kathryn?" Ian asked.

Nat looked up from his book, "I don't listen to gossip unless it involves us, Ian."

"Well, rumor has it that Mary Margaret and David has been meeting secretly for weeks. And Kathryn wasn't told until quite recently, which resulted in Kathryn slapping the school teacher in front of the students," Ian rattled off quickly, feeling conflicted. Mary Margaret had always been a timid and somewhat naïve individual. She didn't deserve that. Even if they had gone behind Kathryn's back. She had always had the best intentions, for her students as well as others. It didn't sound like Mary Margaret.

Nat shrugged, "Well, wouldn't you feel slightly agitated that someone was having an affair with your spouse behind your back?"

Ian paused, "I suppose. But… it doesn't make sense. I wouldn't have thought Mary Margaret would be such a person. I didn't think she'd be the other woman."

"Perhaps that was why it was hidden so well. No one suspected a thing," Nat offered.

"Perhaps."

"But you're right; Mary Margaret wouldn't like to be the other woman. I think it was David who didn't want to tell," Nat continued, his face contemplative. Ian considered the possibility. David had been in a coma for a while, and Ian couldn't really remember how the man had been before. "You work with him at the shelter; did he seem like he was keeping secrets?" Nat inquired.

Ian shook his head, "No, not really. He was confused maybe, but that's to be expected since he just got out of a coma."

"I suppose," Nat nodded. He didn't seem to have many thoughts on the subject and he returned to his book.

"Permission to kiss you?" Ian asked, hands behind his back like a toddler.

Nat sighed, "Granted."

"Well, you don't have to sound so annoyed," Ian grumbled before cashing in. This was a record; 7 kisses in one day. And Ian was rather pleased with himself. He'd figured out that the best chances of kisses were if Nat was distracted by something. Like, cooking or reading.

Speaking of cooking.

"It's your turn to make dinner tonight," Ian said, dropping down next to Nat on the couch, keeping an inch between them per Nat's request.

"Is it?" Nat frowned.

"Yes, you see; skipping because you had a talk with Archie and leaving me to fend for myself does not count as cooking. So it's your turn," Ian said calmly, and he peeked at the pages Nat was currently clinging to. It looked like **Matilda**. An odd choice, but the story was quite cute. Ian smirked; Nat had a soft spot that could be exploited consensually in the future.

Nat sighed and practically tossed the book to the table before standing. Ian pushed his legs back to allow Nat to pass with his cane. "I love you," Ian mumbled as Nat went out of sight.

"I know," Nat grumbled and Ian laughed.


	9. Turning Turning Turning

"I just got hired as Mary Margaret's attorney," Nat said the next day when he came home at a shite hour. He shot an inquisitive look at the lit candle on the table – a souvenir from Miners Day. Ian almost forgot to chew his food. Nat was smirking and gestured to Ian's face. Ian closed his mouth but his eye was locked with Nat's. "You know Kathryn disappeared? Her heart was found in Mary Margaret's jewelry box," Nat said grimly.

Ian lost his appetite at a record speed. He swallowed anyway, "So she's dead."

"Yes it certainly seems that way doesn't it?" Nat asked, being apparently in a particularly sarcastic mood this evening. "I don't think Mary Margaret did it though. She's too… innocent for homicide."

"Agreed," Ian inclined his head. "Where did they find the heart?" he didn't really want to know, but it was odd. Something was wrong.

"Miss Lucas found it buried by the lake," Nat said.

"Oh, poor Miss Lucas," Ian whispered.

"Yes, she did seem rather disturbed," Nat agreed. Nat took a plate and started piling food, "Miss Blanchard's being questioned tomorrow. I have to be at the station in an hour to prepare her for the arraignment."

"Do you have to?" Ian groaned. "It's your bloody birthday and you actually promised you'd stay in for the night," Ian complained, crossing his arms convincingly.

"No, I didn't," Nat started and Ian was hearing none of it.

"You can meet early with Miss Blanchard in the morning, can't you?"

"I'm supposed to weaken her defense by not preparing her properly?" Nat frowned.

Ian sighed, "Well, when you put it like that…"

Nat opened his mouth but then the buzzing of his phone interrupted. Ian leaned back and enjoyed watching Nat fumble with the device. "Hello?" Nat gave Ian a thoroughly dark look. Ian could hear it was a female, but nothing more. "She's what?" Nat asked.

"What's happened?" Ian mouthed quietly.

"You have until 8 AM then," Nat ignored him, looking decidedly cross. "If she doesn't return her future is in jeopardy, but if you're caught looking for her-" he was interrupted and he clicked his tongue. The call was ended and Nat put the phone on the table and dragged a hand over his face, "Mary Margaret's missing."

"What?"

"Gone. Her cell was empty and Swan's gone out to find her. Her arraignment is in the morning," Nat's gaze was unfocused, thinking hard and Ian groaned inwardly. No birthday celebration then. Nat hated celebrating birthdays anyway. He celebrated Ian's because he wanted to make him happy. Ian couldn't care less if they celebrated their birthdays, but this was a pretty big milestone. 50 years on Earth was surely something even Nat wanted to celebrate. It was a weird game of Russian Roulette when it came to these matters. Either Nat was impressively positive or surprisingly negative. There was no in between.

"You said she's gone?"

Nat nodded, "Yes, she's gone and Swan's out looking for her."

"Then you have no plans until tomorrow?" Ian wiggled his eyebrows and the effect was spectacular. Nat was steadily turning beet red. Ian took pity on him, "Watch a movie with me?"

Nat actually looked relieved and Ian didn't know how to feel about that.

"You can chose," Nat said, sounding like he'd just narrowly avoided a heart attack.

The no-touching thing that had recently spawned in Nat's head had really begun taking over. It seemed like Nat didn't want touching of any sort. Not even birthday sex, and that wasn't really much to ask for, was it? But Ian mentally shrugged it off and they cleared the table together. Nat's skin had returned to the normal shade of pale with a splash of occasional sunshine. "Tea?" Ian asked, already putting on the kettle.

"Please," Nat still had manners though.

"Chocolate biscuits?"

"If we have any?"

Again something that Nat would never admit. Chocolate was like his guilty pleasure or something. That, and the petting. Ian raking his fingers through Nat's long hair was something that could almost literally make the man drool.

-x-x-x-

When Gold woke up, his bones were sore. He also quickly took notice of the arm around his waist and the body pressed against his back. Oh, he was being spooned. He sighed but didn't pull away. He was too tired to be stubborn about it. He pushed the duvet down and opened up the top buttons of his shirt. He felt clammy.

"Nat?" Ian said, his voice slurred with sleep.

"… Mhm?" Gold pretended he was just as sleepy in hopes tha-

"I love you."

In hopes that the conversation would die down soon.

Gold swallowed and the words burned in his mouth, "I love you too."

Ian made a pleased noise and pulled Gold in closer. Gold could feel the other man breathe on his neck and the arm around his waist tightened just a fraction before letting go again. Ian leaned his head in closer, his mouth hovering over Gold's ear. "Marry me?" he asked softly and Gold stiffened.

"Get off me."

"Nat-"

"I said; get off!" Gold pushed Ian away and sat up in the bed. Couldn't that stupid Englishman understand that he wasn't going to say yes? He pushed himself to his feet, using the bedpost for support. He limped down the staircase for his cane, clinging to the railing every inch of the way and was halfway down before Ian slammed the door shut above him. Gold huffed, picking up his cane and going for the kitchen. Maybe tea would calm him down.

Screw that. Tea wouldn't calm him now.

Then the bedroom door opened, "Your phone is ringing!"

"Let it ring!" Gold didn't shout. Ian shouted, but Gold only raised his voice.

"It's Swan!"

Gold groaned and stalked back upstairs, snatching the phone from Ian's hand without looking, "What?"

"Wow, good morning to you too," Emma snorted.

Gold didn't have the patience for this, "What do you want, Swan?"

"In case you forgot; you're Mary Margaret's attorney and she's back now-"

"Well, do your job, Sheriff Swan, and wait patiently until I get there!" he ended the call before she could protest. It was her job to find people. He could feel Ian's stare. "What?" he snarled.

"Just… get dressed. It sounded urgent," Ian said, pulling a hand over his face and pushing past Gold. Gold stood in the doorway and breathed, leaning against the door before finally closing it and changing. When he came down, the kitchen smelled like tea and toast. He paused on the final step, considering his options. Ian sighed, "Come have breakfast."

"I'm not-"

"Please?"

Gold pressed his lips together and went for the kitchen, going for the chair closest to the front door. Ian set a plate in front of him, but Gold's appetite hadn't increased.

"I'm sorry," Ian began.

Gold shrugged, "Its fine. I overreacted." He ran a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp as he went. He looked at the plate and his stomach grumbled. He caught Ian's smile and the mood was somewhat lifted. "I'm a little stressed," he offered lamely.

"It's okay. I said I wouldn't propose again," Ian said apologetically, pushing the teapot towards him.

"So you lied," Gold said crudely.

"I broke a promise," Ian corrected, although in Gold's book it wasn't a correction. It was paraphrasing. "I'm sorry," Ian had those pleading and apologetic eyes and Gold couldn't stay mad for long. Long enough for Ian to begin sweating though.

"It's forgiven," Gold said finally and Ian actually breathed out in relief. He quickly ate a piece of toast and downed a cup of tea, "Mary Margaret's come back."

"What?"

"Which is why I'm in a hurry," he said as he stood, putting his plate by the sink and going for the door.

"No kiss goodbye?" Ian called mockingly.

"Not after the stunt you pulled ten minutes ago," Gold called back, shrugging his jacket on.

"You said I was forgiven!"

"Forgiveness doesn't mean permission," Gold reminded and exited the house. The cold air hit him in the face and he went for the car. He was grumbling internally; this was not the most stellar start of a morning.


	10. Louder

_ "__Where are you headed?" Ian asked, slightly out of breath. He'd jogged to Gold and did a slight hop to keep up with the limping man's impressive pace, raising his umbrella over the pair of them. Gold looked halfway soaked, yet unbothered by the cold._

_Gold shot a look at the umbrella, then at Ian, "I was heading home."_

_It almost sounded like a question._

_Ian smirked, "Then please allow me to accompany you. You'll get drenched."_

_"__More than I am presently?" Gold asked with one raised brow._

_"__I just thought I'd be nice," Ian said defensively. They walked in silence for several steps and the tension was rising. Gold however seemed to have infinite amounts of patience, barely glancing at Ian. Ian didn't have the same self-control, "May I ask why you're walking home in the rain?"_

_"__Well, I didn't decide it should rain, did I?" Gold shot back._

_"__You could have waited it out," Ian suggested and if on cue, it started to hail._

_"__You were saying?" Gold's tone was caustic and raised to be heard over the noise._

_"__That was ridiculous. Like, what the hell?" Ian peeked out from the edge of the umbrella and was pelted with hail the size of quarters. It was impressive in itself that umbrella hadn't broken. The sky had darkened and a rumbling sounded in the distance. Gold huffed and pulled him back under the umbrella by the collar of his jacket. Ian was surprised and shot Gold a dazed look._

_Gold blinked, before coughing, "No use in both of us getting sick."_

_"__I suppose," Ian agreed quietly._

_"__You are new in town, yes?" Gold asked._

_"__Yeah, I mean I was camping in the woods and then I saw the town. Decided I might stay for a few days, maybe a week," Ian informed, happy that conversation was finally happening. And Gold's accent was really too sexy for words. He felt his face heat up as soon as he'd thought the thought and he prayed that Gold wasn't some psychic in disguise._

_Cough if you just heard that._

_Gold coughed and Ian nearly had a fit. Instead he let out a squeak of embarrassment and Gold jumped at the shrill sound. Ian slapped a hand over his mouth to try and keep anything else in._

_"__What?" Gold snapped._

_"__You coughed," Ian croaked._

_"__I'm slowly getting sick," Gold said slowly, as if speaking to a small toddler and Ian slowly began feeling like one. Gold being psychic was ridiculous. "Am I no longer allowed to cough?" Gold asked coldly._

_"__Of course, I was just… surprised," Ian offered lamely and Gold rolled his eyes. His lovely brown eyes. Christ, Ian was in love._

_"__Doesn't take much to surprise you, does it?" Gold asked._

_Ian shrugged, "Not anymore."_

_Gold hummed before stopping on the pavement. Ian nearly tripped over his feet as he came to a halt. Gold was looking at him expectantly and Ian came to realize they were standing in front of Gold's house._

_"__It's pink," he blurted._

_Gold nodded, "Yes, it is."_

_Ian swallowed. Now was his chance. Say something, you idiot!_

_"__Good day, Mr.?" Gold too half a step back but paused to hear Ian's name._

_"__Uh, Ian Rawlings."_

_"__Mr. Rawlings. And thank you for the umbrella," Gold nodded his head and headed for the door. Ian was pressing his lips together convulsively to try and make something intelligent and/or witty pass them. But it didn't happen and he was left standing like a nearly drowned puppy on the sidewalk while Gold disappeared inside the house._

_Ian huffed to himself. Gold could have at least invited him in to dry off. He waved it off and began the suddenly long trek back to Widow Lucas' B&amp;B. The need for hot chocolate was rising. He left and didn't look back to see Gold standing in the window watching him._

The umbrella from all those years ago still stood in the hallway, waiting for the next big storm. And it didn't seem like there was one underway with the way Nat was acting. But Ian didn't pay much attention to it. Kathryn had been found alive. Mary Margaret was free to go. The question was; why the hell did the DNA from the heart say that Kathryn was dead. The poor woman herself was currently hospitalized, sleeping the worst of the trauma off.

Nat had begun initiating touch more often now. But it was still limited to holding hands and leaning on one another when they sat in the couch. It seemed that the crisis Ian had anticipated might just disappear on its own.

-x-x-x-

He was screwed.

He was falling for Ian, and falling fast. Every time Ian held his hand or touched his face he didn't want it to end. He wanted to stay in this reality, where love was real and love was something he had in his life. But every time they let go of one another, he'd become overwhelmed with guilt. He was using Ian for his own cravings. It wasn't fair.

Ian was the first person since Belle to show him love.

The thought of Belle send a harsh streak of shivers down his spine.

"You okay?" Ian asked, his body vibrating against his side. Gold had leaned just enough to be comfortable and Ian was more than happy to oblige.

"Fine," Gold's smiles were tight and controlled. Ian's weren't. Ian's were wide and uninhibited, carefree and starry eyed. Like life couldn't possibly get any better than right now.

_"__Always treasure the small things right in front of you. When you look back at your life after a few years you may realize that they were the big things all along."_

Ian was in many ways like Belle. For instance, both couldn't see the monster he really was. Both of them were impossibly positive. Ian was not naïve as Belle may have been. Ian was older and had experienced life. He was a veteran of the Korean War. She had been a well-read princess.

Wait, Ian was a war veteran?

"Ian?"

"Yeah?"

Gold blinked a few times to try and word his question properly. The pause didn't seem to unnerve Ian. "Very off topic, but please indulge me; what rank were you in the army?" he tried to sound as if he'd simply forgotten, for he was sure they'd had this conversation before.

"Captain, why?" Ian asked.

"Just thought about it," Gold replied nonchalantly.

"You're not going to start calling me Captain are you?" Ian asked, sounding half amused half horrified.

Gold scoffed, "No, of course not."

"Did you know Marco once called me loverboy by accident a few years ago?" Ian giggled.

"He did?"

"Yeah, I think he forgot for a moment that I'm 53 years old," Ian continued into a laugh and Gold smiled.

"Must have been terribly embarrassed?"

"He begged me not to tell."

"And now you have, naughty," Gold said and realized too late what he'd let slip out. And now that stupidly wonderful glee twinkled in Ian's bright blue eyes and Gold swallowed. He put a hand up but before he could protest Ian had pounced. And being ticklish was no advantage in this game. Gold laughed until he cried and Ian relented when they rolled off the couch to the floor with a bang.

"You okay?" Ian asked, breathless and a wide grin on his face.

"Fine," Gold smiled and he could honestly not believe how bloody childish Ian was sometimes. But he didn't hate it. So he leaned up and kissed him. Ian was a little surprised, but pleasantly so. Being with Ian wasn't so bad after all.


	11. Moments Like These

Ian liked this position; Nat beneath him. Kissing was happening. It was over way too soon, but Ian rolled off him and settled beside him instead. He couldn't wipe off the stupid grin on his face but Nat didn't seem to notice. "We should do this more often?" he commented.

"What? Getting bruised because you take tickle fights too seriously?" Nat asked, watching him with his dark brown eyes and Ian licked his lips.

"Ending up with you beneath me," Ian said crudely. He knew he was walking on the edge here. Nat had loosened up during these past three minutes, but he could bounce back to his more distant self in a matter of milliseconds.

Nat didn't say anything, but stared up at the ceiling while he seemed to be thinking about it. Ian counted it as a neutral reaction so far. Nat sighed before turning his head, "It will take more time."

Ian grinned, "I think I can handle the wait if this is the in-between."

Nat huffed, "As long as we don't end up on the floor too often. My leg won't put up with it."

"I think I could manage that," Ian nodded, and he sat up and leaned against the couch. The coffee table was just high enough and the tabletop just wide enough to block Ian's vision of the TV screen. He looked down at Nat, who had yet to move. "Need a hand?" Ian asked jokingly.

Nat shook his head," What time is it?"

Ian lazily glanced at the clock on his wrist, "Just past 1900 hours."

"We're talking in hours now?" Nat asked.

"You reminded me of my military career," Ian shot back. "Why do you ask?" he continued, coming to realize that it was not Nat's turn to cook tonight. Damnit. Maybe he could be persuaded into working in tandem?

"I was thinking about retiring early tonight," Nat said, sounding tired enough that his statement held reason.

But Ian was stubborn, "Dinner first, then straight to bed?"

Nat finally heaved himself up to lean against the couch beside him, "Alright."

"Are you going to help me cook?"

"Depends on what you'd have me do," Nat said.

"In the kitchen or…?"

"Ian."

Ian grinned, "Sorry, I can't help myself."

"I know," Nat sighed, and then leaned his head on Ian's shoulder. Ian felt glee bubble in his gut, amongst the hunger and the butterflies. The words _teenage dream_ echoed in a female voice in his skull, but he couldn't place the singer. And it would be useless asking Nat. Useless _and_ embarrassing. He was not a damned teenager.

"I would have you make the table," Ian said, returning to the subject.

"So you leave me to do the hard work?"

Ian scoffed, "Of course. Poor Nathaniel."

Ian moved to get up but Nat latched his fingers into his collar and Ian stilled. "Can… can we stay here a while?" Nat asked. Ian smiled and wrapped an arm around his lover as reply.

"You know you said you'd talk to me if there was something bothering you," Ian said. He didn't want Nat to flee.

Nat grimaced, "I'm just trying to figure out why you keep me around."

"Food and a bed?" Ian suggested. "The house is technically only yours, so if I dump you I have to go through the hassle of finding an apartment," he continued and Nat exhaled sharply. Ian tugged Nat closer and kissed the top of his head, "If I have to name everything on the plus side of my list then we're going to be here a while."

Nat frowned, "The 'plus' side?"

"What, you think your technophobia is a plus?" Ian asked. Nat nudged Ian's side and Ian laughed. "Your voice is a plus though. And your accent," he said softly.

"Really?"

"Don't sound so skeptical, you know what your brogue does to me!" Ian snapped. Nat chuckled at that and Ian wanted the moment to last forever. "Nat, I love you," he said and watched as Nat's eyes brightened noticeably.

"I love you too," Nat said quietly and Ian took that as permission for another kiss.

He wasn't disappointed.


	12. Interlude

Regina was not pleased. Gold was not her puppet anymore. But there was no way he could remember who he really was. Maybe Ian had gotten the best of him and convinced him to do the right thing. Maybe Gold had been swayed. And in that case, Ian needed to be taken care of.

This wasn't what she had planned. Ian and Gold had grown too close. She'd thought that Ian would be a distraction, keeping Gold out of her way and out of the Savior's way. But he was interfering now more than ever. It was Swan's fault. Her presence was doing something to the town. Her tree was dying, the clock was ticking and time was once again flowing. Emma Swan was the savior and she had to be removed.

The fact that she was growing closer to Henry bothered her impossibly more than her breaking the curse. She could live with the curse being broken, but Henry was her son. She had raised him since he was but a baby and Swan had no right to come and try and steal him away.

She had only wanted the best for Henry. She had never meant him harm.

But now the evidence was piling up, Snow White walked free and the evidence would all fall to Regina. Gold had set her up. He'd played her. She'd always known Rumpelstiltskin was far from stupid, and it seemed Gold had the same twisted mind as his counterpart. He needed to be put in his place. He had demanded the library for his services in the plan against Mary Margaret, but now she was going to have to get that library back. But knowing Gold he wasn't going to just give up the key. She was going to have to take it.

She stood up and paced. If Gold didn't remember, then she would have to tread carefully. Only True Love's kiss would break the curse, and Ian and he certainly weren't True Loves. Belle had been the perfect candidate, the perfect pawn. But Rumpelstiltskin had seen through her somehow.

And if he did remember then she'd have to get rid of him. But she couldn't kill him. He would be a useful asset in the future. She just needed to be able to control him. She smiles to herself. The asylum would do. But if he was going to get locked up he had to come up with a good reason, or at least a decent excuse. Ian would be suspicious as well. He and Gold were getting too close.

Or perhaps she just had to lean on the right people. She'd leaned on Archie before and she could do it again. Getting Gold to talk to Archie was going to be the hard part. She couldn't lock him in a room and then throw Archie in afterwards.

Or could she? The Queen inside her laughed at the absurdity.

She wandered to her desk again and opened the third drawer. The copies of Archie's files. Her fingers traveled down the backs of the files, stopping at the letter G and she pulled the file.

Nathaniel Arik Malachi Gold.

She'd had no idea what to call him other than Gold and had literally called him the first three names that came to mind. She'd tried to keep it as random as possible. There was no way she would have called him Rumpelstiltskin, or any variations thereof. Robert was close, but for some reason it just seemed weird.

It had been a while since the files were updated.

But even in this outdated version it said that Gold had displayed signs of anxiety. But the notes were old and Regina craved knowledge. If she was going to remove Gold, then she'd need every piece of potential evidence she could find. Every weakness that could be exploited.

Belle had been a weakness. But Regina didn't regret killing her. She'd served her purpose.

One of Archie's earlier notes was '_prone to anxiety and minor panic attacks'_.

Regina smiled widely.

-x-x-x-

Emma sighed. She really didn't want to deal with Regina's shit today. "Tell me again, why you want Gold to talk to Archie. You and him hardly see face to face and you can't possibly want Gold to go to therapy for selfless reasons," she observed.

Regina arched a perfectly plucked brow, "I am simply concerned for him. Both him and his… boyfriend."

"Uncomfortable Regina?" Emma smirked.

"It seems a wrong term, but I am more uncomfortable calling them lovers," Regina said dryly. Her eyes flickered around the room and Emma was really enjoying this.

Emma smiled, "Alright, I'll call Archie." There was no way she was telling her royal Mayorness that Gold had already been visiting Archie. Under her orders no less. She really loved going under Regina's nose. Regina seemed satisfied and turned on her high heels, strutting away like she owned the place. Emma grumbled; Regina _did_ own the place.

Emma honestly had a more pressing concern that Regina and Gold's pissing contest. There was a stranger in town and he was staying. She didn't outright believe Henry, but even to her it seemed fishy.


	13. Some Shall Be Pardoned

It wasn't Baelfire. The thought replayed over and over in his head, and the more he repeated it, the more sick he felt. He'd been fooled. He had been desperate enough, that he didn't recognize his own child. What sort of father was he?

He got home by breaking a few speed limits, but Swan didn't seem on duty today. Small blessings. He'd rather not scream at her today and then have her poke about in his private life because she thought he was a psychopath.

He tore the door open and slammed it shut, the sound echoing in the big rooms. He then just stood there, breathing like he'd run a marathon and he felt like he was simultaneously burning and being drowned in an ice bath.

He saw the tea set on the table in the living room and he had to do something.

So he grabbed the first offender and hurled it at the wall farthest away.

They sailed through the living room into the kitchen, china smashing with very satisfying sounds against the wall. The teapot was an exceptionally grand smash, and for a moment he suddenly remembered what he was doing. He looked down at the next victim in his hand and suddenly he saw the chipped cup and he saw Belle.

-x-x-x-

"Nat?"

Nat was so startled, so far away in his mind that he jumped and dropped the cup in his hand. It cracked against the floor and broke in several large pieces. Nat only stared down at the cluster of china and Ian swallowed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I-" Nat didn't get very far before his throat close up on him. His hand was still raised, empty and shaking. He made a sound that was half a sob and half a whine, and Ian didn't like it. He walked over and pulled him close without asking for permission, but Nat didn't seem to protest. Rather, he just melted against Ian and clung to his shirt while burying his face in his neck.

"Nat, what happened?" Ian asked softly.

"Nothing," Nat mumbled.

Ian rolled his eyes, "As if I'm going to believe that."

"It's all you're going to get now," Nat said.

"Then I'm looking forward to later," Ian countered and Nat sighed.

"I suppose you can't be persuaded to leave it be?"

"No."

Nat hummed, "In that case I better start cleaning up the mess."

"What the cup? I can do that," Ian said.

"I'm talking about the mess in the kitchen."

Ian turned his head was saw a decent sized pile of broken china. He spotted the snout of the tea pot and grimaced, "You really went all out, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm a dab hand at gluing things back together. I'm sure I can scavenge at least a cup or two, maybe even the teapot," Ian was fairly optimistic. He smiled but Nat wouldn't look up. He was shaking. "Nat, please don't cry," Ian said gently.

"I'm not crying," Nat said, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

"Of course not," Ian nodded.

Nat exhaled sharply, looking up, "Promise me something?"

"Of course," Ian prompted.

"Never ever lie to me?" Nat asked.

Ian nodded and held him close, "I promise."

"Thank you," Nat responded.

Ian smiled, "Let's get you to bed. I'll clean up the tea set."

Nat let Ian help him upstairs. "Sleep in your clothes again?" Ian asked with a smile as Nat pulled the covers aside and slipped into the bed. He pushed off his shoes and pulled the duvet back to cover him up. He looked like he wanted to curl up and cry. "You'll be alright, luv?" Ian asked, putting his hand on Nat's arm.

"Maybe," Nat settled for.

Ian let out a breath and squeezed his arm before exiting the room quietly, closing the door behind him.

-x-x-x-

Ian snuck in, opening the door millimeter by millimeter to avoid the squeak- Nat turned his head slightly at the noise, but his breath was steady and he didn't wake up. Ian grit his teeth and tip toed to the dresser to change. He shot discreet looks at Nat, checking constantly for signs of alertness. He'd rather have Nat sleep as long as he had to, than have him wake up and shut Ian out because _something_ had happened.

Ian shrugged to himself. Nat would take the time he needed. He settled in the bed quickly, moving closer to Nat and he was surprised when Nat seemed to arch his back against him in his sleep. The surprise was quickly pushed aside and Ian grabbed the opportunity to throw his arm around Nat's middle. Nat didn't throw him off and that was a good sign. Ian used his free hand to push Nat's long hair out of his face and settled against the soft pillows.

It had been a while since they'd done this.

Ian closed his eyes for what felt like a second when suddenly Nat twitched. Ian didn't take much notice and tried to go back to sleep, but then the twitches became frequent, tossing and turning and Ian sat up, "Nat?" He reached out and put his hand on Nat's arm and the clearly dreaming individual was suddenly wide awake.

"No!" Nat screamed and flailed to a sitting position, and Ian panicked.

"Nat, calm down!" he yelled, and hopefully the neighbors were sleeping soundly. "Calm down, you're just dreaming! Nat," Ian pulled Nat closer but Nat was shaking too much to be held. "Calm down. Breathe," Ian tried instead, gently pushing Nat's chin up so their eyes could meet. The dark brown orbs were still hazy from sleep, but the haunted look shined through. Ian breathed slowly and it took a little too long before Nat began to copy.

"Ian?"

"Yeah?"

"… Nothing," Nat shook his head, then reached out and Ian gladly welcomed the embrace.

"Bad dream?" Ian guessed and Nat nodded. "Want to talk about it?" he continued, knowing very well what reply he'd get.

"In the morning, maybe."

Ian inhaled sharply, nodding to himself and pulling Nat closer.

Progress was being made.

Nat slowly began to relax in Ian's arms. Ian leaned back, pulling Nat down with him and briefly utilizing one arm for grabbing the blankets to cover them up again. Nat was asleep in seconds. Ian had a bad feeling about this.

-x-x-x-

Gold woke up to Ian's arm around his waist. Again. But for the first time since he broke the curse on himself, he was happy about waking up like this. It made him momentarily forget that his life had cracked once more last night and he was really feeling like he was going to throw up. He carefully maneuvered Ian's arm off his waist and got out of the bed.

Time to sneak away from that explanation he'd almost promised.

He went to the bathroom and closed the door, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked approximately like he felt. When he got out of the bathroom, Ian was still sleeping. Gold didn't change and headed downstairs, quickly noticing how high the sun was in the sky. The clock on the wall said 9:30, but that couldn't be right because Gold had set his alarm-

"Nat?"

Probably Ian's doing.

"Yeah?"

"Come back to bed."

Gold swallowed, "In a minute." He slowly made his way upstairs, taking the steps one at a time and wondering if he should prepare himself mentally. He approached the door and could hear fabric rustling, "What are you doing?"

"… Would you believ me if I said I was making the bed?"

Gold snorted, "No, I'd assume the correct answer to my question would be 'undressing'."

"Aren't you the town psychic?" Ian grumbled. Gold snorted and Ian quickly added, "Would it make it better if I called you 'unbelievably tempting'?"

"Ian, you better be dressed when I get in there," Gold put his hand on the knob and he could hear slightly more frantic rustling. It looked like Ian had managed to get his shirt on, but the pants were still on the floor. "Charming," Gold commented dryly, but shuffled back to bed anyway. As far as he remembered, Ian didn't go commando. "Tempting?" he inquired afterwards and Ian shrugged.

"Made you pause, didn't it?" he reasoned.

"Put your pants on," Gold sighed, leaning back against the pillows while Ian mumbled something about wasted opportunities. And now Gold actually felt bad. "Well, excuse me if I'm not in the mood," he said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood somewhat.

Ian got his pants on and dived under the duvet again, snuggling up close and Gold leaned his head away. "Can we cuddle?" Ian asked, recalling the request Gold made a few weeks ago.

Gold mockingly groaned, "Fine."

Ian didn't waste time and snaked both arms around Gold's waist, pulling closer. Gold clenched his eyes shut briefly while Ian got settled. A gentle hand pushed his hair out of his face and when he opened his eyes, bright blue were looking at him with something eerily similar to happiness. Gold licked his lips and averted his gaze. Ian then pushed so that Gold's head was resting on his chest and for a few seconds he could only hear silence. Then came the heartbeat and he was… comfortable. He liked this. And Ian was petting his hair, which was always a plus. But he was rather fond of his reputation, meaning that this particular feat only happened inside the house.

Ian didn't mind. Like the unknowing fool he was, he was content with what he got.

"Nat?"

Gold startled, suddenly realizing that his eyes had closed and he'd drifted. "What is it?" he asked.

Ian let out a chuckle, "Were you asleep?"

"There's no point in me saying 'no' is there?"

"No."

Gold snorted, admitting defeat with his head resting on Ian's chest and Ian ran a hand up and down his side. It tickled and he tried to block the sensation out. "Want to go make breakfast?" Ian asked, taking pity on him and Gold was definitely on board with that suggestion. The shift from lying to standing had his head swimming for a few seconds and Ian automatically handed him his cane. "Are we having a lie in? 'Cause I'm not going to change if you're not going to," Ian stated plainly.

"Well, I'll put on a robe," Gold started.

"Are we too old to sit in our pajamas all day?" Ian asked.

Gold considered it and came to the conclusion 'probably'. But he shook his head, "I really don't care today." He was far too tired to care about appearances today. It wasn't like there was something he had to do. They went into the hallway, and Gold yawned, actually swaying a bit and Ian instinctually put him up against the wall. "I'm not going to fall, you nonce," Gold groaned.

"To be honest I just wanted you like this," Ian said, for once being the one to blush first.

"Oh," Gold closed his mouth after nothing useful came out. Ian slowly leaned closer, but didn't go for a kiss. Instead he just rested his weight against Gold, like an intimate hug of some sort. Gold was quickly becoming fond of it.

"Marry me?" Ian asked, holding him around the waist so his leg wouldn't suffer under the pressure. Ian's breath tickled his hair and consequently, the back of his neck as well.

"Again?" he questioned.

"Please?" Ian continued sweetly.

Gold hesitated, "It really means that much to you?"

"I want it to mean something for you too," Ian said, tightening the arm around Gold's waist again and he buried his face in Gold's hair.

"Okay." If he was lucky he could put off the ceremony until after the curse had been broken. So that Ian would still have a chance to back out when he realized everything they had together was a lie. A stupid fairytale. No happy endings.

"Okay' what?" Ian murmured against Gold's neck, his brain obviously not ready.

Gold sighed and turned his head slightly, "Okay I'll marry you. But no fancy ceremony, and no grand-" He was cut off with a kiss, this one straight on the mouth and he closed his eyes. He'd been kissed on the mouth by Ian before, but this kiss was soft, lazy and hungry all at once. It felt strange, Ian's stubble scratching his face and this position wasn't exactly comfortable for his neck. He broke the kiss and turned, feeling his spine straightening again.

Ian leaned over him, putting one hand on each side of his chest and he moved down for another kiss. "My fiancé," Ian murmured in between kisses and Gold had to admit it sounded nice. Then one hand snaked under his shirt and he squirmed. Ian drew back, an odd confusion in his gaze, "What?"

"I… it's just… not now," Gold said lamely.

"Why not?" Ian asked, moving in for Gold's mouth and his hand stayed warm against Gold's back.

Gold brought up a hand and put it on Ian's chest, "No. I… I need air."

"Is this about… yesterday?" Ian asked and Gold was surprised at the impressive insight. Gold nodded and averted his gaze.

"I just need some time… to deal with the world again," he said quietly.

"It's just me, luv," Ian said reassuringly, his fingers caressing Gold's skin.

Gold removed the hand with his own, forcing Ian to move back. "I know – if it weren't you, I'd raised yer rent for calling me 'luv'. I… and I know you don't… you're not..." he trailed off and his throat clogged up, his accent thickening marginally.

"What happened yesterday, Nat?" Ian asked gently, grabbing Gold's hand and stroking it with his thumb.

Gold licked his lips, "Just… some young man came by the shop and pretended to be my son. Said he needed money because he was sick."

"Your son?"

"I thought he was dead. I never thought I'd ever see him again. And when I found out he was lying I… I didn't take it well," Gold said, trying to match the explanation to what had actually happened. August Booth had pretended to be his son to gain control of the Dark One and access magic to try and cure his illness. It was close enough and hopefully the questions would stop now.

"Where's the bastard now?" Ian asked, an edge to his words.

Gold shook his head, "He's left town already. Don't bother looking for him." He didn't need his personal knight in shining armor, Ian Hamish Rawlings, confronting Pinocchio about pretending to be Rumpelstiltskin's son Baelfire. It would undoubtedly get Regina's attention and his incognito status would be nullified within minutes. "I don't like being used," Gold said finally and Ian shot him a sympathetic and slightly surprised look.

"I'd never use you, Nat," he said.

"I know," Gold nodded. He inhaled sharply and rubbed a hand over his face, "Watch something with me?"

Ian seemed hesitant, watching Gold closely for something. Gold guessed that he found it, because he nodded and they headed for the living room. There was plenty of hours left of this day to turn it into something good.


	14. I Am Machine

He went to the shop the next day, needing some time off and he kept the sign in the door reading "closed". He didn't need anyone talking to him today, not even the Savior. Nothing could save this day.

He'd said yes.

He was really fucking screwed now.

He didn't know what had come over him. He didn't crack under pressure. He'd had literal centuries to build up facades and masks to keep people from knowing him. They'd only ever known the acts, the songs and the legends. He was the most powerful, the most terrifying sorcerer in the realm and he was being picked apart at the seams by some middle-aged Englishman with a thing for Tarantino movies and snuggles on the couch.

What?

The Dark One did most certainly not snuggle and enjoy it.

And then Ian would look at him like the whole world could disappear and it wouldn't matter as long as they were together and Rumpelstiltskin wanted to scream.

A part of him wished he could allow himself to just curl up in Ian's embrace and let everything else wait for a while. But waiting around never did him any favors, and finding Baelfire was the sole reason of the creation of this curse. Years, no, decades of planning had brought him this close and he couldn't be distracted now because soft words were making him weak in the knees. If he stayed in Storybrooke, let the Savior leave town again, then everything would have been for nothing. He would have put all these people in so much pain for nothing. He could live with the fact that Regina may have suffered. She's murdered Belle because she'd lost her usefulness. But if this curse kept going strong, then only Regina would have her happy ending.

If Emma left...

28 years they'd been waiting without even realizing it, for her to set them all free.

They wouldn't know. No one would ever know.

Gold sighed.

Being human was something he'd taken for granted for far too long. It was easier to be the monster people thought he was. Fewer questions and less people to poke at his carefully constructed walls. But now… He needed to get the hell out of Storybrooke.

For weeks he'd been waiting patiently.

Emma Swan was going to set them all free.

She was going to set him free.

Emma Swan was the Savior.


	15. Care Enough To Carry On

Nat had had a son?

What?

Ian tried to wrap his head around it, he really did.

But... what?

Nat had said that his son was dead. How come he'd never told? Never even mentioned it in the years they've been together, not once. Just a casual 'By the way I had a son, but he died' would have sufficed. Ian groaned; No wonder Nat didn't want to adopt Ashley's child. No wonder he'd been so against the idea of adopting anyone's child.

Ian's pocket buzzed.

_"__His name was Bailey. I called him Bae."_

The text surprised him. Nat could barely type and rarely did it. He preferred face to face conversations, and if it was something urgent he'd call. But he hated texting for some reason.

Ian typed back, _"What happened?"_

_"__I lost him."_

That could mean so many things, none of them good.

_"__Thank you for telling me."_

It was important to say thank you. Nat wasn't obliged to share, no one was. Nat had his walls up, and some of them were so big and thick that Ian doubted he'd ever get past them. But he'd jumped some fences in his time with Nat. At least he liked to think so.

And this one had definitely been a wall.

A son.

Ian was well aware that the subject might never be mentioned again and that was fine. It was out in the open now, and it was Nat's privilege to initiate any future conversations on the subject.

He inhaled forcefully and grabbed his coat. He felt like eating out for lunch.

-x-x-x-

"I hear congratulations are in order," Emma said smugly, as if the news of his own engagement hadn't reached him yet.

Gold held back and groan and managed to smile, "Thank you."

"Ian practically lit up the diner," she explained and Gold's frozen smile became painful.

"Was there something you wanted Sheriff Swan?" he asked, looking down at the book on the desk to check that the ink from the pen hadn't dripped yet. It wasn't a quill, but the habit was stuck with him since Fairytale Land. Quills were definitely going out of style.

Emma shook her head and pursed her lips slightly, "Not really. I just… I figured that you wouldn't get many congratulations from the town."

Ah.

"No, I imagine you're right," Gold agreed.

Emma smiled tightly, "Take care, Gold."

"You too, Sheriff Swan," Gold said, and Emma nodded – mostly to herself – and exited the pawn shop in a hurry. Gold watched the sign in the door swing, enjoying the silence that followed the harsh exit. But the silence also gave him time to think. He'd have to be smart about this. Being engaged would probably only put more pressure on his intimacy issues and he didn't have time for dallying around when he was _this_ close.

But if he could manage it he would drag it out for as long as he could, and hopefully the curse was broken soon. Booth had promised to show Emma the truth if Gold led her in the right direction. But there was no obstacle yet that Swan needed help with overcoming. At least not yet.

The bell jingled and he looked up. Ah, Marco.

Gold almost choked as he remembered Ian had mentioned Marco's nickname slip-up.

"Mr. Marco," he greeted pleasantly, and watched as Marco shuffled on the floor, clearly uncomfortable being here. Gold almost rolled his eyes; it wasn't like he was rumored to be a cannibal or something. "Wait here," Gold said, going to the backroom where the old clock has been resting for ages. It's been broken since he got it, but now the perfect opportunity had come up. He lifted the clock out to the counter with minor difficulties and Marco looked it up and down, opening the front of it. "It's been broken for a while, I'm afraid," Gold said conversationally.

Marco nodded, "Looks like a few gears are missing and some springs. No problem."

The bell jingled again and both of them looked, Gold's smile turning into a smirk. The pain on Booth's face was horribly pleasing. Eye for an eye.

Marco left soon after that and Gold had to admit he was just a tiny bit eager to hear what Booth could possibly want from him. As long as it meant the curse breaking, he would consider it.


	16. Take Me All The Way

"Ian?"

"Hmm?"

"Why me?"

"What?" Ian didn't get where this was going.

"Why me? Why not some other person- some… why me?"

Ian turned in the couch to look at him but Gold couldn't meet his gaze. Instead he stared at the wall opposite him. Ian was quiet for a while, "Seriously?"

"I'm not doubting you. I just want to know why," Gold insisted, adjusting his seat on the couch to avoid being squashed by Ian's weight. Despite being equal height, Ian was definitely more build. He ventured a quick look at the man on his chest and was surprised by the sadness, "What?"

"You don't trust me?" Ian asked. His tone wasn't accusing, only surprised. Gold looked down, resting his eyes on one of Ian's tattoos on his left arm. It was a compass, in blue, black and red with north pointing towards Ian's wrist. During their relationship, Gold had made the other man promise never to get something that represented their relationship. Gold hated being sappy and Rumpelstiltskin was agreeing. Ian had laughed and retorted that even _he_ wasn't that sappy.

"When we met, why did you ask me out?" Gold asked.

Ian snorted, "Because you looked pretty good in that suit."

"I'm serious Ian," Gold said, trying to sound calm.

"So am I. You looked good in that suit, and – even if it was terribly superficial – I wanted to help you out of it in a fucking hurry," Ian said, his hand caressing Gold's collarbone. Ian giggled, "Took me all of three days to ask you out for a drink and you nearly gave me a damn aneurysm when you didn't respond for a full minute."

"Nobody's ever asked me before, it was a fair response to be wary," Gold reasoned and Ian slapped his shoulder.

"I didn't ask you to run off into the sunset with me, it was one bloody drink," Ian said.

"Still."

"Mayor Mills informed me that you would be uninterested," Ian said, his tone casual and nonchalant.

Gold couldn't hide his revolt, "You asked Mayor Mills?"

"I was new in town! I didn't know anyone, and when the Mayor pointed me in the direction of Granny's we had a conversation. I asked who you were, she replied," Ian explained with a smirk. "Said you probably weren't interested," Ian continued, tracing a pattern on Gold's chest.

Gold raised an eyebrow, "So you took me as a challenge?"

"I took you in a manly fashion, darling," Ian teased and Gold unceremoniously pushed him off the couch, turning an impressive shade of red. "Ow," Ian complained but smiling like an idiot. Gold crossed his arms and didn't respond as Ian settled on his lap again, leaning in for a kiss.

"Tosser," Gold managed dryly and Ian only snorted. Gold sighed, "I'm getting too old for this."

"What, snogging?"

Gold winced at the word. It sounded terribly undignified. "This thing. Dating," he clarified. The word was unpleasant in his mouth.

"Then let's skip straight to the marriage," Ian said cheerfully, leaning on Gold's chest. "I was thinking Archie should officiate the thing. Maybe rope Dove into being witness?" Ian said casually and suddenly Gold didn't want to discuss this anymore. Talking about it made it real.

And the curse wasn't broken yet.

They were still living a lie.

Booth hadn't managed to convince Swan of her true heritage and now he had to come up with a new plan before the Savior fled the town because of the resident crazy person who claimed to be Pinocchio. The curse _had_ to be broken. This wedding was a very good reason why it should be soon.

"Does it have to be right this very moment?" Gold asked.

Ian smirked, "I was thinking a week's notice? You didn't want a big ceremony and we only really need Archie to be there besides us. And it's not like Dove's busy. We don't really have anyone to invite."

Gold swallowed, "No, you're right about that."

Ian certainly didn't waste any time at all. One week to break the curse. Or get married trying.

Ian took a moment to study him, "It is not your fault."

Gold rolled his eyes, "People shy away from you because of me. I never wanted to make you an outcast."

"Don't give yourself too much credit, I was an outcast way before I met you, Nat," Ian laughed but Gold didn't find it very funny. "Nat, I don't care about the lack of guests or presents or congratulations. I don't care. We're getting married. And our happiness shouldn't depend on how many others agree with the path we've chosen," Ian said calmly. "I love you," Ian said firmly.

Gold didn't respond, and Ian shot him a funny look. Gold managed half a smile, something similar to agreeing. He couldn't say it. Saying it would make it real. And Gold wasn't in love. He couldn't be. No one could ever love him.

-x-x-x-

_Gold blinked, "Are you trying to seduce me?"_

_"__Do you mind?" Ian shot back quickly, and now the words had left his mouth and he couldn't take them back._

_Gold looked like he was choking on air, turning red in the face and Ian briefly thought he'd made a huge mistake. "No, not terribly," Gold managed and Ian exhaled sharply._

_"__Oh, thank God. I've been trying to ask you out for days!" Ian groaned. He waited then for Gold to speak up but the younger man was silent. He was staring awkwardly and Ian felt mixed signals. Was Gold interested or did he just not care if Ian hit on him? "So, you want to go out for a drink or something?" Ian asked after a very long pause._

_"__I uh… I would like that," Gold said haltingly and Ian lit up like a Christmas tree._

_"__Great! But I'm new in town and I don't really know where I could get you a drink," Ian continued._

_Gold shrugged, "I don't generally drink publicly."_

_"__Then how about I buy a bottle of something and meet you at your shop?" Ian asked, just avoiding airing his desire to go to his place. That would certainly frighten him off._

_"__You're really intent on that drink, aren't you?" Gold said quickly._

_Ian snorted, "I'd rather not jump you. I'm not entirely uncivilized."_

_"__You've been staring at my backside for the last two days," Gold countered, eyebrows raised._

_"__It's a very nice backside," Ian said._

_"__I-" Gold opened his mouth then closed it as Ian's words seemed to register._

_Ian was dangerously close to smirking, but bit his cheeks to keep it in. "I'll meet you at the shop by 8?" he asked, his tone making it clear that this thing was definitely going to happen, whether or not Gold was able to speak._

_Gold nodded, surprisingly wordlessly and Ian spun and began walking away. He was feeling very victorious right now, but he had to wait with the dancing until he was out of sight. He wasn't trying to play hard to get, he'd basically just thrown himself at Gold's feet. But there was no need in signaling that he was slightly desperate to figure out if the Glaswegian was just as excited about tonight as he was._


	17. The Sun Will Come Tomorrow

"Congratulations," Archie was beaming.

Gold's smile was small, "Thank you."

Archie sighed wistfully, "I think it would be relevant to discuss this development today?"

Gold nodded but said nothing.

"You're engaged."

Gold rolled his eyes, "I'm well aware."

"Were you waiting?" Archie asked, leaning back in his big, comfy chair.

"No," Gold shook his head negative and Archie tilted his head. "Ian has asked before, but…" he couldn't really explain it without ending up in an asylum.

Archie frowned, "You didn't want to marry?"

"I don't know," Gold replied.

"Do you want to now?"

Gold shrugged, "More now than before."

"Did something change?" Archie asked, pulling out his notepad.

"Not really," Gold diverted. There was no reasonable way to explain anyway.

"Do you trust Ian?"

"I don't know," he said, frustration leaking out. He took a quiet, deep breath and tried to calm down.

"Do you love him?" Archie asked gently.

"How can I love him if I don't trust him?" Gold retorted sharply.

Archie tilted his head, "But you want to trust him. And you want to love him."

Gold averted his eyes and nodded. It's embarrassing to admit it, more so to others.

"You can't force yourself to love another person," Archie said in almost a whisper.

"It's not that I don't… feel something for him, but I can't risk-" Gold snapped his mouth shut. He didn't want Archie to know. He didn't want anyone but himself to know that he was a coward on the inside.

"You're scared he'll get tired of you?" Archie asked with an arched brow.

Gold scoffed, "That's not unreasonable from my point of view."

"Do you think he will?"

"Get tired of me? Eventually," Gold nodded. As soon as the curse was broken Ian was going to run off screaming. And why wouldn't he?

"Don't you think that if he was going to get tired of you he would have done so years ago? You've been together a while," Archie reasoned and Gold bit his tongue. Yes, Ian would not still be here if he didn't love him. But maybe it was Regina's hold on him that was affecting his feelings and maybe it was all Regina's doing. That would be low, even for her. "It is a big step to get married, and I understand if you're nervous," Archie continued.

Gold blinked, "I just don't want him to regret it."

"What about you? Are you going to regret it?" Archie shot back. "We're not talking about Ian, now we're talking about you," he said as Gold opened his mouth.

"I don't want to be alone again."

His voice was small and he hated it.

"Mr. Gold, it's not uncommon to want to have someone," Archie started and Gold didn't want this conversation anymore. He didn't want the pity. And he'd shed enough tears in his past than he liked and he wasn't going to begin setting a new record now.

"I just don't…" he resisted the urge to flail with his hands like he usually would.

Archie sighed, "I'm officiating the ceremony. You can tell me if you don't want to do it."

"No, I want to. But I don't want it to blow up in my face later," Gold said.

"I would recommend taking it one step at a time. I can tell you for certain that Ian loves you," Archie said encouragingly.

Gold nodded.

That's what he was afraid of.

"Mr. Gold, I think we should begin talking about this. About how you feel about trusting people. How you feel about letting people in," Archie said. This new line of questioning was unwelcome, and unwanted.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he deflected, crossing his legs and leaning back.

"But I think it is," Archie insisted, finally showing some stubbornness. Gold liked it. "You said you were nine when you began distrusting people. Would you like to tell me what happened?" he asked, more confidence growing.

"Why does it matter? No one cares if I have sob story or not," Gold snapped, perhaps a little harsher than intended.

"I'd like to know. Does Ian know?"

"No. I don't talk about it."

Archie frowned, "Not even with your fiancé?"

"I've made it very clear that I don't want to talk about my past. And _he_ respects that," Gold said.

"With all due respect, Mr. Gold, I think it would do you some good to talk about it. We don't need to have a conversation about it. Just tell me what happened and I'll move on," Archie said calmly.

"My father disowned me."

It didn't sound as bad as it had felt like at the time.

"What about your mother?"

"I never knew her."

"Oh?"

"She died in labor."

"Oh."

It was almost comical to watch Archie's mouth open and close like a fish.

"Then, where did you go?" Archie asked, a little unprepared.

Gold shrugged, "Two elderly sisters across the street adopted me."

Archie made more notes.

"I don't want to talk any more about it," Gold said and Archie nodded, still scribbling like mad.

"That's perfectly fine, I won't push," he babbled distractedly.

"Why do we need to talk about this?" Gold asked, snapping just a little.

"I think its important," Archie said.

"So I'm just here for _your entertainment_?"

"Mr. Gold!" Archie harrumphed

"You insist on these sessions and I think I've been more than forthcoming," Gold continued crossly.

"The only thing you've done so far is knock on my door and sit on my couch," Archie retorted.

"Do you consider yourself hard of hearing, or did I not just talk about both of my parents within a span of a minute?" Gold asked, feeling his pulse beginning to race a bit.

Archie sighed with aggravation, "That's not what I mean-"

"Has it ever occurred to you that I don't want to talk about my past?" Gold was past sneering but Archie took it in stride.

"Then leave!"

Gold blinked.

Archie inhaled slowly, "If you don't want to be here, then you can leave. I won't stop you."

Gold found that hard to believe. "What do you want?" he asked.

Archie leaned forward, "What do you mean?"

"It wouldn't make sense for you to let me walk away. Not without consequences. So, what do you want and what will you do if I don't deliver?" he knew he was beginning to sound paranoid, but that was unavoidable by now.

Archie groaned, "Why does there have to be an ulterior motive for me-"

"That's the only thing that makes sense," Gold interrupted, watching Archie closely. But then he realized that he was taking this way too seriously and he considered taking Archie up on his offer to leave.

Archie licked his lips, "Mayor Mills asked me to asses you."

Everything suddenly made sense. That horrid b- witch!

"And what have you found, Dr.?" Gold asked mockingly, standing and getting ready to leave.

"I'm not sure-"

"You can tell Regina to find a new spy for her. I'm done here," he was already turning the doorknob when Archie put a firm hand on it, keeping it from being opened. Gold raised an eyebrow at the slightly taller man.

"She wants me to commit you to the psychiatric ward. Mainly because of the fire you set at Sheriff Swan's election," Archie confessed.

"And what has she got on you, since you were actually going to do it?" Gold asked, leaning against the door. Archie was quiet and Gold's eyes narrowed, "She didn't have anything on you, did she? You're just doing her bidding because you're scared of her."

"Mr. Gold, it isn't unreasonable to at least have you mentally assessed after setting a fire," Archie reminded.

Gold nodded, "I repeat myself; what do you want?"

"Tell me about Ian?"

Where had that come from?

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. The only times you smile and open up just a little, is when talking about him. So let's please continue," Archie sat back in his chair and waited for Gold to remove himself from the door.

Gold didn't sit back down, "What do you want to know?"

"How did you meet?" Archie asked.

"You're going that far back?"

"I have to start somewhere, don't I?"

Touché.

"He came to Storybrooke and spent three days gathering up nerves to ask me out for a drink," Gold said, being vague about time. Mentioning the passing of time in Storybrooke was still not a safe thing to do.

"And did you agree?"

"Obviously," he drawled out slowly.

"Were you surprised?" Archie asked.

Gold nodded, "Very. He seemed to be a little surprised himself that I agreed."

Archie nodded understandingly, "Why did you?"

The question threw Gold for a few seconds. He couldn't really remember.

"He had nice eyes."

"Mhm," Archie was looking at him encouragingly with a wide grin on his face and then Gold remembered.

"He smiled at me," he paused, thinking back. He shrugged, "No one had done that in a long time."

"Do you know why he asked you?" Archie asked, again scribbling on his notepad.

Gold hesitated, determined not to blush, "He… mentioned it briefly."

Archie decided not to comment, and instead his eyes turned slightly glazed. Then he jumped and Gold watched him carefully. "You spoke of your son the last time you were here," Archie said.

Gold's face darkened and Archie saw it. "It wasn't him. He pretended to be, but it wasn't him," Gold said.

"I'm sorry," Archie said sincerely, and it was the sincerity that kept Gold from making an acidic retort. "Did you talk about it with Ian?" Archie asked. Gold nodded and Archie kept going, "Did you start the conversation."

Gold made a face that suggested the opposite. "I… I was destroying our tea set when he came home," he said, looking down

"How much was destroyed?" Archie asked, trying to make light of the fact that Gold had turned destructive.

"A few cups and the pot. The only cup I didn't break on purpose was one that was already chipped," Gold said. And now the cup was gone. Ian has swept the pieces aside and promised to try and glue them together sometime in the future, and Gold didn't doubt he was going to attempt it. He just didn't have a lot of confidence in that it was going to go well.

"Did you feel better?"

Gold huffed sourly, "No."

"Did Ian help?"

Gold wasn't sure he understood the question, but nodded anyway.

"What do you like most about Ian?" Archie asked, taking a breath of semi-fresh air.

"What do you mean?" Gold frowned.

"Something you like about his character. Or his looks," Archie clarified.

"He's patient," was the first thing out of Gold's mouth. He avoided Archie encouraging look, but thought about it. "He cares," he continued.

Archie's look turned confused, then surprised, before finally turning awkward, "Mr. Gold, don't take this the wrong way, but do you think he's the only one who cares about you?"

"Presently, yes."

"What about me?"

"You get paid for caring," Gold said sharply.

Archie smiled, "Why would I do this for a living if I didn't want to listen or care?"

"You tell me."

"Do you have a snide retort for everything?"

"Comes with age, Hopper."

"Speaking of age. You turned 50 recently," Archie said and once again it seemed like a new line of questioning had erupted. Gold glanced around the room for a clock, and unfortunately found the only one present to be located on Archie's wrist. And he was not about to inquire.

"What of it?" Gold asked.

"A milestone, isn't it?" Archie uncrossed his legs, before crossing them again with the other leg on top. Archie fiddled a lot for a man in this line of work.

"I suppose," Gold replied, becoming aware that he was often caught off guard by the questions. He didn't like it. "But I didn't celebrate," he added offhandedly.

"Oh?

"Another time, Hopper. I would like to leave."

He'd phrased it so politely that Archie couldn't possibly refuse.

"One more thing before you go?"

Gold groaned inwardly.

"Would you still like to marry Ian?"

"Yes."

His mouth moved on its own and now it was out in the open and he really wanted to leave.

"Then, I will be looking forward to this Sunday," Archie said, gesturing with a hand and Gold was out of the office in the blink of an eye. Sunday. 4 days to go. Not enough time, not nearly enough. His pocket virabted, and he was reminded of his phone in his jacket pocket.

_Are you done with Archie yet?_

Gold looked at the time on the top of the screen. It was getting late. He texted back affirmative and began the trek home. He had a suspicion that it was Ian's time to lounge on the couch while Gold cooked. But he could live with that. He needed to do something, and locking himself in the basement with his spinning wheel would probably not soothe Ian's nerves.

He still had to write his vows.

Improvisation had always been Rumpelstiltskin's… he'd been decent.


	18. Put A Ring On It?

"Do you want a ring?" Ian asked.

Nat blinked a few times before looking up from his book, "What?"

"I was just thinking. When you propose to someone, there's usually a ring involved," Ian continued, shrugging. Nat already wore two rings; a gold ring from their partnership ceremony and a ring with a moonstone. "I wasn't thinking something with diamonds and sparkles if that's what you're worried about," he said quickly when Nat didn't reply.

"I don't need a ring," Nat started and Ian saw the loophole from a mile away.

"Yes, but do you _want_ a ring?" he asked.

Nat clicked his tongue, "I don't know."

"We need rings for the wedding anyway," Ian quickly, becoming excited about the idea of bestowing romantic gifts to his soon-to-be husband. "Which is in three days, by the way," he added, smirking like an idiot and he didn't care.

Nat sighed, "I haven't forgotten our wedding date, Ian."

"Getting excited yet?" Ian teased.

Nat didn't say anything.

"Nervous then?" he tried and Nat nodded. He smiled, "Me too. I thought I was fine, but then a few hours ago I got the jitters."

"I've been having jitters all week," Nat confessed and Ian laughed.

"Good to know."

Nat put his book away, "Can I just clear up one thing before we do this?"

"Sure?" Ian leaned back in the couch.

"Just because we get a piece of paper that unites us, promise me nothing will change?"

"Well, the first week is going to be interesting I've heard, but after that everything will return to normal," Ian beamed and congratulated himself when Nat blushed but didn't bite.

"Good," Nat said, and he grabbed his book again.

"Where are we going to spend that week though?" Ian asked. While he had nothing against spending it in the house, it could be great to have a nice week away from town. "Don't you have a lake house?" he asked.

Nat nodded, "I do, but I would prefer being here."

"Really?"

"This house is my castle," he said, looking almost smug. Ian didn't understand the joke, but didn't inquire. Nat had his own strange type of humor. He looked determined to have the honeymoon in the house and Ian didn't argue. They had the rest of their lives to take weekends off and get familiar with each other's bodies at the lake house. No rush.

"I'm just saying a little privacy would be nice," Ian muttered.

"As if people come knocking here if they have a choice," Nat scoffed.

Yeah okay, points for Nat.

"Did your talk with Archie go well?" Ian asked. Nat probably didn't want to talk about it, but he wanted to ask anyway. He cared about his future husband's mental wellbeing. And asking was the only way he was going to get any sort of reply.

Nat shrugged, "As expected, I think."

"Anything you care to share?"

"Not really," Nat said sharply, before opening his book theatrically and Ian nodded to himself. Nat returned to reading and Ian returned to thinking. Now he really wanted to get Nat something sappy and/or corny. He needed the gesture. Ian looked at the clock. 4:37PM.

"I'm going into town," Ian said, standing up and patting Nat's thigh.

Nat twitched, but didn't comment, "Why?"

"We're out of icecream," Ian lied smoothly and if Nat saw through him, he didn't tell.

"Okay," Nat nodded to himself.

Ian pulled in his coat and grabbed his keys, "Permission for a goodbye kiss?"

"Granted."

Ian walked over in long strides and put a gentle kiss on Nat's forehead. "I'll be back in half an hour," Ian promised.

Nat waved him off, already returned to his book.


	19. Light Of Night

'Twas the night before the nuptials, and not a sound was heard in the household.

There were plenty of nerves however, and Ian in particularly had summed up a decent amount to compete with Nat's anxieties. With his secret weapon tucked away in his boot downstairs, he'd felt just a tiny bit of panic when Nat had hung his jacket earlier that day. One glance and the surprise would be ruined. But for now, Nat remained clueless and innocent, at least in that sense. Nat had gone to bed early and Ian had followed about an hour later. Ian had thought about setting a clock, and prepare breakfast in bed, but there was no way Nat wouldn't wake up at the alarm and spoil the romantic gesture. Ian looked up into the ceiling, lying on his back and mentally preparing himself for the morning. He was getting married tomorrow. They were getting married. Holy fuck.

"Ian?"

Ian startled a bit, but replied quietly, "Yeah?"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do."

"You wouldn't leave me?"

"No, there'd be too much paperwork involved."

"Would you leave me, if I told you what I've done?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you leave me, if I told you what I've become?"

Ian frowned and turned his head.

Nat turned as well, but Ian was met with scales and yellow eyes that shone in the dark. The creature smiled and the teeth were sharp and pointed. The creature laughed, a high pitched sound, "Once you're mine, there's no going back!"

Ian woke up with a gasp.

He sat up and inhaled sharply through his nose, breathing out through his mouth. He looked to the side. Nat was still sleeping, looking extraordinarily human. Hair in his face and snoring lightly. Ian looked to the clock. 5:33 AM. Oh joy, another hour and a half to go. He fell back against the pillows and stared up into the ceiling.

That had been a weird dream.


	20. Stuck In The Middle With You

Ian didn't tell Nat about the dream. No use riling him up further. What kinds of fiancé would dream up their future husband as some sort of monster? Ian had never once considered his partner to even resemble a monster.

In fact, when Ian woke up that morning, he woke to the smell of breakfast and Nat was surely sent from the high heavens. He was going there tonight if Ian had a say in it. And their honeymoon was approaching quickly, so the chances were good.

Ian walked into the kitchen and something struck him, "Nat?"

"Yeah?" Nat hardly turned his head as he replied.

"We're getting married today."

Nat paused, "I'm aware."

"Shouldn't we… be freaking out?" Ian asked.

Nat turned and blinked, "Is that a euphemism?"

"No no, no, I… I was just wondering if you're calm. Because if you're calm, then I'm calm," Ian said hurriedly, his tone suggesting he was anything but calm.

Nat smiled somewhat nervously at him, "I think I'm calm."

"So you're not calm?"

"As you said; we're getting married. I think I'm allowed to be on edge," Nat shrugged. He turned towards the stove again, "And you've almost made me burn the bacon, so compared to three seconds ago, I'm now 10 percent less calm."

"The only thing we need to remember is 1'o clock, the clock tower, and our vows. Assuming you've written them," Ian rattled off.

"I did actually, thank you very much for the vote of confidence."

"And wear something casual, like… loosen your tie or something."

"I'll try."

Nat started setting food onto the table and Ian began grabbing plates and cups. So far so good.

Ian watched the plate of bacon, "It's not burned."

"No, it's not. I said 'almost burned'," Nat reminded him.

Ian sat down and hauled spoonful after spoonful of scrambled eggs and bacon over on his plate.

"It's allowed to take more than one portion," Nat drawled slowly.

"I'd rather not faint at the altar, thank you very much," Ian pressed, feeling his nerves rattle a little at the mention of an altar.

Nat shrugged, "Technically there won't be an altar-"

"You know what I mean," Ian snapped.

"Nervous after all, darling?"

Ian's brain paused at the word 'darling'. Nat paused as well, realizing what he'd said. "Getting ready for married life?" Ian joked.

"Don't get your hopes up," Nat said warningly. He looked to the clock, "I have to go to the shop today, so I'll meet you at the library."

Ian nodded, "I have something to do in town as well."

For the first time in a while, Nat kissed Ian without prompting when they said goodbye to one another.

And Ian did not blush all the way to the jewelers like a schoolgirl.

-x-x-x-

Dove stood outside the library, on time, hands folded in front of him and a camera in a harness around his neck. Dr. Hopper showed up first, looking up at Dove like most people did, "Are they here yet?"

"No," Dove shook his head.

Dr. Hopper shrugged, "Well, I suppose they're just around the corner."

"Hm," Dove nodded affirmatively.

"Have you known them for long? I know you're employed by Mr. Gold," Dr. Hopper said conversationally.

"For as long as Mr. Gold has been in Storybrooke, and as long as Mr. Rawlings has known Mr. Gold," Dove explained shortly. He liked keeping his sentences short. It hid away his stutter.

"Dove! Archie!" Mr. Rawlings walked up to them, looking almost confident. "Archie, would you go up and prepare, I just need to talk to Dove for a while," Mr. Rawlings said.

Dr. Hopper tipped his head and went inside.

"Dove, I need you to do something for me," Mr. Rawlings said quietly, fishing out a pouch of dark cloth. His hand was shaking when he handed it to Dove, "I need you to hold on to this for me. Okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Rawlings," Dove nodded, pocketing the item, while having a good idea as to what it contained.

"Thanks. Are you staying out here to wait for N-Gold?" Mr. Rawlings asked.

"I thought it best to wait here. The stairs are not nice," Dove said.

Mr. Rawlings nodded, "You're right about that. I'll see you inside?"

Mr. Rawlings went and Dove resumed his position by the door. He didn't have anything against Mr. Rawlings; the man was nice and devoted. Mr. Gold needed that type of person. Not that he'd ever snooped in Mr. Gold's private life, but Mr. Gold had become… better with Mr. Rawlings around. Plus, Mr. Rawlings was ex-military, which Dove greatly admired.

"Dove."

Dove looked down, "Mr. Gold."

"They're already here?" he asked.

Dove nodded, "Yes. They are upstairs." He gestured with his arm, opening the door and Mr. Gold went inside. They both eyed the stairs carefully. Mr. Gold licked his lips, but Dove stayed silent. In the end, Mr. Gold climbed the stairs by himself, although with difficulty, and Dove didn't stray far behind in case something should happen.

They reached the top and Mr. Rawlings groaned, "I said casual."

"This is casual," Mr. Gold insisted, looking down at himself. He wasn't wearing a jacket or a tie. It was casual for Mr. Gold. The waistcoat wasn't going anywhere and neither were the sleeves of his shirt, which were not folded up like Mr. Rawlings'.

Mr. Rawlings rolled his eyes, "Fine! You were the one who didn't want something grand."

"You were the one who wanted this to begin with," Mr. Gold shot back easily and Dr. Hopper coughed. Dove walked to the back, hired by Mr. Rawlings to take pictures and be witness to the ceremony, and Mr. Gold hadn't grumbled about it so far. Dove knew Mr. Gold would indulge Mr. Rawlings on certain things, and because Mr. Rawlings probably had arranged everything else, Mr. Gold didn't argue about the choice of photographer.

"Gentlemen, please?" Dr. Hopper gestured with one hand and the pair of them sighed, but eventually stood side by side in front of the person who'd wed them. Dr. Hopper looked gleeful and Mr. Gold's eyes narrowed. Mr. Rawlings shoved him when he noticed. Dr. Hopper cleared his throat, "It is my great honor to officiate this most lovely union."

Mr. Gold arched a brow at the formal language but Mr. Rawlings looked pleased at his suffering. Dove thought it best not to say anything at all. He could talk to Dr. Hopper later.

"You have your vows?" Dr. Hopper asked, turning to Mr. Rawlings and Mr. Gold's soon-to-be-husband coughed. Dove pushed the record-button and hoped Mr. Gold wouldn't beat him with his cane later.

"Nathaniel – don't look at me like that, I know you want this over! – I love you. I don't know what to promise you now, that I haven't already promised. But this is a milestone for both of us and I hope it's the good start to a new chapter of our lives together."

"Gold?" Dr. Hopper prompted.

Mr. Gold sighed, "Ian, I love you too. I know I'm not the easiest person to love but somehow you've stuck with me. When I met you I didn't believe in love and I didn't believe I could be loved. You've proved me wrong and that means more to me than I can possibly describe. I promise to try to keep believing."

Dove had known Mr. Gold a long time. That was probably the most thought out sentence he'd ever heard come across Mr. Gold's lips. And that was saying something. Dove returned to taking more pictures and he could see through the lens that Mr. Gold was actually nervous.

A thousand things must be going over in both of their heads right now, Dove didn't even want to know.

-x-x-x-

Gold took a semi-steady breath through his nose.

Was that too much? Ian smiled like an idiot, but he was allowed to. Dove was stoic as usual, with a camera obscuring half of his face. Archie looked almost proud. And there it was. Yep, he'd overdone it.

Should have kept that last sentence out of it.

Rumpelstiltskin's flair for the dramatic had come back to bite him.

But it was called 'vows'; you were supposed to vow something to your partner. Ian had said there was no such thing as a wrong thing to say, but certainly there were stupid things to say?

Archie cleared his throat, his smile widening and Gold wondered if it would stick to his face if he didn't start frowning soon. Silence fell, another dozen pictures were taken courtesy of Dove, and Ian flashed an overly excited smile at the amateur photographer. Gold rolled his eyes and the camera clicked. Oh wonderful. And Dove now looked like he was enjoying this a little too much.

Ian shot Dove a look and the man with the camera stepped forward. Was the man going to speak as well? Oh, please don't. Instead Dove reached into his pocket and handed Ian two golden rings. Gold felt like strangling Ian and smothering him in hugs, all at the same time. "I had Coleman make them for us," he explained, reaching out and Gold took it as a prompt. The notion of a dwarf, a friend of Snow White, making their wedding rings, didn't bother Gold as much as he thought it would.

"I thought I told you I didn't _want_ one," Gold said slowly, allowing Ian to put on the ring. The cool metal was studded with a small but noticeable red stone. He'd vaguely spotted some sort of inscription, but he'd have to read it later.

"And I specifically recall you said you didn't _need_ one," Ian shrugged, handing him the other and Gold put the ring on Ian's finger. Ian's was studded with a blue stone. Ice shot through his stomach as he looked back up. This was really happening. He wondered if Ian felt the same. He blinked and they returned their attention to their officiator.

Archie cleared his throat, "As I was saying; you may kiss."

Gold loved to look other people in the eyes. But not when he didn't have the upper hand. Ian spared him the trouble of thinking, and put two fingers under his chin and he moved. Their lips met and Gold didn't regret a thing.


	21. If I Risk It All

Okay, saying that Gold didn't regret a thing might be true, but saying that he didn't have a substantial amount of guilt would be the biggest lie in the history of lies. Maybe not the entire history of lies, but it was definitely worse than any other lie Gold had ever subjected his husband to-

Husband.

Oh God.

He tried not to let the guilt show, he really tried to just enjoy the few minutes after the kiss where Archie had showered them with congratulations and somehow the therapist had stashed a wedding present away somewhere in his suit. It was a simple cardboard box about the size of a basketball and when Archie had handed it to Ian to hold, Gold definitely heard bottles clinking together. Ian shot him a silly smirk, "He knows us too well."

"Or not well at all," Gold shrugged, pushing away the thought of exactly how many bottles of alcohol Archie's wedding present contained. He was almost just as curious as to what kinds of alcohol. He was not drinking bad scotch to celebrate his wedding day.

Gold tried to ignore the guilt that was roaring in the back of his head, much like the voice he was all too familiar with. That was possibly the only great thing about the Land Without Magic. The voices couldn't reach him. Not yet.

He tried to enjoy the usually silent Dove walking up to tower over all of them and wish them well.

"Thanks, Dove," Ian looked teary eyed and if the Englishman was going to cry- God damn it!

Gold briefly looked up to get the water in his eyes to disappear and if anyone saw they didn't mention it. They let him keep his dignity for a little while longer.

Ian hefted up the box of alcohol, making it clink dangerously and Gold winced at the sound.

Archie clapped his hands together, "Well, I don't think there's anything left to say really."

Gold swallowed and once again guilt flooded his head in waves. Gold had said he didn't want any kind of reception or party or anything of the sort, so now they were in the semi-awkward situation of just leaving and going their separate ways after sharing a rather intimate and romantic moment. One of the people involved still carried the camera to prove it!

"Nat doesn't want any kind of party, so we'd just like to thank both of you for doing this," Ian said, not looking the tiniest bit ashamed or annoyed.

Archie nodded, still smiling brightly, "Of course, you can decide what you do on your wedding day. Dove and I wouldn't want to get in the way."

Was Archie implying what Gold thought he was implying?

Because if so; where is your discretion, you div?

He could tell Ian was thinking the exact same thing, and but the Englishman didn't appear bothered, "We haven't really gotten anything planned, but now we're definitely going to spend the night figuring out what you bought us."

"Oh, a few bottles of this and that," Archie divulged.

"Not going to get drunk though. Just a few sips of everything," Ian said cheerfully.

"If you get jaked on our wedding day, I will never forget it," Gold warned.

Ian raised an eyebrow, "I'm sure you'll forgive me eventually."

"As long as you're sure," Gold didn't bother arguing. Ian was right and he knew it.

"I'll take my leave now then. Have a nice day," Archie said before descending down the stairs.

Dove handed Gold the camera that had previously dangled from his neck.

"Thank you, Dove," Gold said slowly and he meant it.

Dove nodded, "Of course, Mr. Gold. Mr. Rawlings."

Dove left the tower as well and a not entirely uncomfortable silence followed.

Ian sat the box of booze on the floor, "So how's your wedding day going so far?"

"Alright, I'd say. Yours?" Gold asked, stuffing the camera in his pocket.

"Perfect," Ian stepped close and kissed him on the mouth, this time with less urgency than before. Now it was more passion and love and everything Gold wasn't sure he could allow himself to receive at this point.

Ian was still cursed.

Their marriage was still a marriage built on lies.

Ian packed the car, which was parked just behind the library, and the ride home was quiet. The bottles in the backseat and the engine rumbling were the only sounds filling the car and it was lovely. This was what Gold wanted for the rest of the day; peace and quiet.

Ian walked around the car to open the door and Gold sighed inwardly, "You don't have to-"

"I want to," Ian interrupted, no doubt having prepared himself for the protest. Ian then grabbed the box of alcohol and followed Gold up the steps. He sat down the box by the doorway and looked at the key in Gold's hand, "Can I unlock the door?"

Gold frowned at the request, but saw no reason to deny Ian. He handed the key to his husband and stepped aside. There was the h-word again, and Gold was getting used to it. Damn it.

Ian unlocked the door and pushed it wide open, "Anyone around?"

"What do you mean? No, I don't- Ian!"

One second he was looking around, trying to figure out what in the world Ian was getting at, the next he was being lifted off the ground and held against Ian's chest. He tensed up but allowed Ian to take that one step sideways and effectively carry him across the threshold before settling for a glare.

Ian set him down and Gold leaned against the wall, "You surprised me."

Understatement.

"I couldn't resist," Ian winked, going back to the porch to retrieve Archie's wedding present.

"More jokes about me being the wife?" Gold asked, his eyes channeling his state of unimpressed.

"Come on, when's the next time either of us gets the chance to do something like that again? Hopefully never, you know?" Ian went for the kitchen and Gold followed. The box that Archie had bestowed upon them was literally stuffed full; scotch, whiskey, and two bottles of tequila. Ian looked delighted at the two bottles with the sombrero on top and Gold only rolled his eyes.

Ian noticed, "You're missing out, Nat."

"Of course, darling."

Again, with the terms of endearment that his mouth let slip out!

Ian opened the cupboard to retrieve two glasses but Gold interjected, "I'm not having anything."

"You're not going to leave me to drink alone. That's just sad," Ian argued, holding up one of the bottles of scotch for inspection.

Gold sighed, "I'm just saying, perhaps we should let Archie's wedding gift last more than half an hour before we start drinking it."

Ian wrinkled his nose and set the bottle back down, "Eh, maybe you're right. Want to go out for lunch?"

"Granny's?"

"Where else? Come on, it'll be nice."

"Two seconds ago, you were all for drinking scotch-"

"A man can change his mind, can't he?" Ian just kept on smiling and it was honestly beginning to become unbearable. Gold hated the fact that he was going to be wiping that smirk off Ian's face sometime in the near future. He hated that at some point soon, he was going to possibly ruin his husband's life. At some point, they were both going to go their separate ways, hopefully on peaceful terms, but life had taught Gold to be skeptic.

Normally, Gold could just put the thoughts away and tell himself he should worry another day, but right now the curse was closer to breaking than ever. He couldn't ignore it now and it wasn't too much pressure, but there just wasn't enough room to worry right now. Right now he needed to concentrate on something but he had difficulty figuring out what. Should he worry on the curse, or his cursed husband? The curse could take care of itself, the Savior just needed to get her act together, sure, but Ian wasn't exactly going anywhere sometime soon, right?

They'd just gotten married, how on Earth could Ian not be important to him by now?

There was no use in lying to himself, of course Ian was important.

Of course Ian was probably the most important person in Gold's life right after Bae. It wasn't like there was a lot of competition, and between son and cursed husband, son definitely came first and cursed husband second.

There might not even be anything to worry about if Ian just drove off after the curse was broken.

That might actually be the best solution to the whole thing-

"Nat?"

Ah, he'd spaced out again.

"Sorry, what?"

"Are you okay?"

And there it was again; the concern Ian had for Gold's wellbeing.

It was sickening.

Gold swallowed, "I'm fine, yeah."

"You looked like you were doing some serious thinking," Ian continued.

"It's not important."

"Uh huh."

"Don't give me that look."

"Then don't give me that bullshit."

Oh, okay, maybe Ian knew him better than he would like.

"Something wrong?" Ian's eyes went all soft and Gold just blurted out the first thing that could somewhat summarize exactly what he'd been internally debating about.

"I love you."

And he prayed Ian understood how heavy those words were, how much he meant it, and how difficult it had been to even utter them out loud. His body started to betray him again; he could feel the stinging in his eye as he said it and he hated the loss of control. Why did Ian make him feel like this? Why did Ian simultaneously make everything wonderful and absolutely horrific at the same time?

Being with Ian was wonderful and dangerous at the same time.

Wonderful because what he felt towards Ian was the closest thing he'd ever been to love, after the kiss he and Belle had shared those many years ago. Dangerous because that feeling could never be destroyed, but instead make him wish like he'd never opened his heart again to anyone.

Ian had wrapped his arms around him now, and was holding him close while he tried to breathe.

"I love you too," Ian said, his warm body an anchor for Gold to latch onto.

"I know," Gold managed, and that was maybe the worst part.

He knew Ian loved Nathaniel Gold, but who could ever love Rumpelstiltskin?


End file.
